


The Eagle's Wings

by silverneko9lives0



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/F, F/M, Homeless Thorin, Homelessness, M/M, Orphans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Publisher/Editor Bilbo, Rule 63, fem!Fili - Freeform, fem!Kili
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:09:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 54,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverneko9lives0/pseuds/silverneko9lives0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Durin hasn’t gone by that name in a long time. Since abandoning his post in the army, he has gone by the alias Thorin, a homeless man in Downtown London with an ever present sneer and a name that sends chills down the spines of the underground. Thorin guards a deep secret: he remembers his past life as the King of Erebor. And more importantly, he remembers how he died.</p><p>DISCONTINUED</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Staring at the date on the clock in the window made him wrap his worn, faded, and patched pea coat tighter around his torso. Christmas was in three days and the man thought about whether he had enough money to perhaps catch the tube to his parents’ house. He shook the thought out of his head. It’d been ten years since he began living like this. To others, he was a nameless face and none were any the wiser of who he was. It was for the best. No one needed to remember Thomas Durin. Let them forget the coward who ran away when he started to remember who he used to be. Let them forget the soldier who disappeared and let _Thorin_ take his place.

Besides, he was certain his mother wouldn’t welcome him. Desiree Durin had been a Regimental Sergeant Major before her retirement and Thomas had expected to take her place. A few years ago, he looked forward to it. Before he became Thorin, he looked up to his mother. They were very close. Desiree was always a mother first, but it never got in the way of her also being Thomas’ best and closest friend…

He walked away from the window, hands stuffed in his ripped jean pockets and tried to ignore his cold feet. Both shoes had nasty holes that he couldn’t afford to repair.

 _Where the fuck is the nearest shelter?_ He thought, getting out of the way of a group of teenagers, laughing and joking, with his head staring at the slush covered sidewalks. Someone barreled into him and he steadied the smaller body. The girl tugged the beany down over her brown curls again and stared at Thorin wide eyed. His gaze softened as much as it could.

“Kelly, what’s going on?”

Kelly bit her lip and looked behind her. A man was striding toward them and Thorin narrowed his eyes at him. The man paused and turned around.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said.

Thorin rubbed her back, leading her toward the foster house she and Philippa lived. Philippa wasn’t Kelly’s sister. Nor were she and Kelly really Thorin’s children. He met the girls a couple years ago, and recognized them as…

Well, it didn’t matter who they used to be to him. What mattered was that he found them and he was going to do a better job this time around. How he failed them last time was unimportant.

 _I need to stop confusing myself_ , he thought.

“Could you stay the night?”

Thorin frowned. “You know Mr. Fitzfundin won’t allow me to stay.”

“That’s only because…because…”

Thorin led her across the street and knelt, ignoring how the icy street stung his knees and tugging Kelly’s beanie further down her head till they nearly covered her eyebrows.

“Kelly, Mr. Fitzfundin is a nice man. He and I agree on a lot of things. There is just not enough room in his house for another person to stay there.”

“But Dad—”

Thorin pressed his forehead to hers. “It doesn’t matter where I stay the night so long as you and Phil are safe.”

“But you’re not safe out here either.”

“Maybe not,” he said. “But I can take care of myself. So don’t worry about me, Princess.” Thorin stood again and took Kelly’s hand in his, walking, perhaps, for hours till they stood outside the iron-picket fence and brick house of Balendon Fitzfundin’s house. Balendon peered at them between the curtains and met them on the porch.

“Thorin, how are you?”

“Good.”

“And you, Kelly?”

“M’fine,” Kelly mumbled.

“Good. You’ll be on kitchen duty for a week, Lass.”

“But—”

“ _Kelly_ ,” Balendon and Thorin said. Kelly’s shoulders drooped and she bowed her head.

“Yes, Mr. Fitzfundin,” she mumbled. Thorin lifted her in a hug, which Kelly returned. “I want to stay with you, Daddy.”

Thorin closed his eyes and sighed. “I know.” He set her down, but she didn’t let go just yet, letting Thorin and Balendon exchange a few words before shaking hands. Balendon gave him directions to the nearest shelter and offered to pay for new shoes and socks, but Thorin turned him down. Again. Surviving on charity and goodwill he may be, but he wasn’t going to mooch off another friend if he could help it.

“Dad!” Another girl ran out and embraced him. Thorin returned the hug. “Are you staying tonight?”

“No, Phil, I’m not,” he said. “There’s a shelter not far from here.”

“But—” She rounded on Balendon. “You can’t just turn him away again!”

“Philippa, I don’t have a choice. Were it up to me, you two would be able to stay with your dad.”

Thorin patted her shoulder. “Girls, let it go. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast, okay?” he glanced at Balendon, who nodded.

One last hug was given and he let them go, heading for the shelter. Before finding the building, he readjusted the pea coat around him and shuddered as fresh snow began to fall from the sky.

At the shelter, he was shuffled into a room where he hung his socks to dry, the ends under the mattress and his shoes under the bed. He bade goodnight to a few of the others and lied on his side, waiting for sleep to claim him and praying that he wouldn’t dream.

Anything but that. Anything but _that._

He slept better when he didn’t dream…always when he didn’t dream.

#

_The sound of bullets popping through rifles deafened him as he raced with his platoon through the hot and dusty plains._

**_So very different from the plains leading to the Last Homely Home._ **

**_“Hold your_ ** _ground!” he bellowed to his mates as a group of **Orcs astride Wargs circled them. Thorin held** his combat shotgun ready, waiting… **waiting…**_

**_“This way you fools!”_ **

Thorin bolted upright, gasping for breath.

“Psst,” someone hissed. “You okay, mate?”

“Yes,” Thorin said, waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal. “Just another nightmare…” he laid back down and stared at the black ceiling. It would be hours yet till dawn and Thorin wished he could get a few more hours.

Preferably without memories of two different lives battling in his head.

#

 The eighteen year old held out a leather wallet, smirking. Thorin gave him an unimpressed look. “What?” he asked. “The old man can get a new one. Besides. All we want is his cash.” He held out a few bills and opened the coin purse before pressing a five pound coin in Thorin’s hand. “Get us lunch, Thorin? Pretty please?” Thorin took the coin. “Thank you.”

“Norris, you could go home. I’m sure your Dad—”

“Does not miss me,” Norris said. “And certainly does not give two fucks about what I do with my time. As far as he’s concerned, we’re good. I’m happy, he’s happy…hello Dwade-zee!”

Dwade arched a brow at him and motioned for Norris to follow him.

“Still want lunch?”

“And a date with either of your girls when they’re legal!” Norris said. “I’ve two arms, after all and they’re bound to grow up to be _fine_!” Thorin sneered.

“Over my dead body!” he bellowed.

Norris clapped his hands over his heart. “You wound me!”

Thorin rolled his eyes and went to one of the outdoor food carts. A part of him wanted to deny Norris food for the comment, but he bought two chicken salad sandwiches. One for him and one for the petty thief. When he returned, Norris had a bloody nose. Thorin looked at Dwade.

“What?” he asked. “Norris was talking smack about your girls. It’s not like you weren’t going to clock him one.”

“Fuck off, Dwade, you pissy fuck,” Norris growled, spitting blood out of his mouth. Dwade shrugged and handed the two of them a wad of bills while Thorin handed the packaged sandwich to Norris.

“This should be less attention-grabbing. Get Phil and Kelly a little something for Christmas, Thorin.”

“Balendon will wonder how I got them.”

Dwade rolled his eyes. “You want to.”

“I do. I would. But I also want them to live in a stable home where I can have a stable job and send them to a good school…but dreams are just that. They don’t come true.”

“At the very least get new shoes,” Norris said, snorting out blood onto the ground. “You can get a decent pair at the thrift store. Yours are duds.”

Thorin stared at his shoes. Were they _that_ bad? He knew they were terrible, but he didn’t realize it was that noticeable.

“I’ll think about it.”

Dwade groaned. “Fuck that. What’s your size?”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You ain’t. I’m getting you fucking new shoes. You earned it. And a descent pair of jeans.”

“I don’t want your charity!”

“And you’re my best mate. Be it food, clothes, or booze, I’m okay with paying, you stingy fucker. Consider it my Christmas present this year.” Thorin turned to Norris, but Norris had already run off, deciding he didn’t want to get in the middle of this conversation. Thorin slumped his shoulders.

“Fine. Eleven and a half.”

“Pants too,” Dwade snapped. Thorin glared at him. “Would you rather I check the waistband myself?”

“I will murder you.”

“Pant size. Now.”

Thorin groaned and gave it, trying to cover the blush on his cheeks with a dark glare and gnashing teeth. Both of which Dwade ignored as he headed to the thrift shop as Thorin ate his lunch, wondering if he should take Dwade’s advice and get the girls Christmas gifts. But what did they need? Or could he get away getting them something they’d _want_?

The sandwich seemed to become mud in his mouth as he thought it through. How could he provide for them when it was a struggle to even provide for himself?

Something banged against the wall and Thorin looked up at the other end. It was a couple of street kids, cornering another hapless man. It was a scene he was quite used to, but his moral sense never really dimmed. Sandwich forgotten, he grabbed one of the boys by their jacket and pulled him away, fixing them with his darkest glare.

“Thorin!”

“Shit! Run for it!”

The boys raced down the street and Thorin relaxed before looking at the man.

“Thank you for that.”

**_“I am glad to have shared in your perils…”_ **

His voice caught in the back of his throat as he met the man’s face. A face that seemed so familiar and so, _so_ beautiful…he tugged his leather gloves in a nervous habit. “Are you okay? You seem a bit dazed.” Thorin nodded and willed himself to move back.

_I ruined his life before. I can’t do it again. Not again._

“They said your name was Thorin, right?” He nodded again. The man held his hand out. “I’m Will.”

**_“Bilbo Baggins…Bilbo…Bilbo…Master Burglar...”_ **

Thorin took it firmly in his grasp. “I remember you.” _YOU_ _IDIOT!!!_

“I beg your pardon?” Will asked, brow furrowed. Thorin dropped his hand and ran for the other side. He seized Dwade.

“Hey!”

“We’re going this way. Don’t argue, just follow me.”

“And where are you going to change into your brand new clothes? Oi! Thorin!” Thorin ignored him, walking as fast as he could and as far away from Will as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to try something different. So…Dis is his mother in this story and her name is Desiree. Fili and Kili are now two little girls (13 and 10), completely unrelated to Thorin, but they call him Dad (he’s all but legally their adopted father) named Philippa and Kelly. Balendon…well, I think it’s obvious that he’s Balin. Norris is Nori, Dwade is Dwalin…Do I need to say who Will is? ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Thorin stared at the things he got the girls. If he could, he’d get them what they really wanted. Whatever that was. But the most he could do without running out of money were matching blue scarves. He played with the idea of getting Phil a pocket knife, but decided against it. He sighed and approached Balendon’s house on Christmas morning.

Balendon didn’t comment when he saw Thorin in new jeans and shoes, but he did arch a brow. “Dwade?”

“Yes.”

“He really ought to just give you a job at his garage,” Balendon said. “That’d be better.”

“Where would he send the money?” Thorin said. “I don’t have a bank account and to get a paycheck, I need that and to have an account, I need a home address. Another thing I don’t have.”

“I’m sure he could figure something out.”

“So could you,” Thorin snapped. Then his shoulders dropped. “Sorry. It’s been…strange. The last few days, you know.”

Balendon nodded. “I’ll let Kelly and Philippa know you’re here.” Thorin nodded and took a seat at the kitchen table, scarves still in his hands. They were thick, soft knit wares in alternating shades of light blue, blue, grey blue, and dark blue…there was even a little bit of shimmer in them. Practical and stylish. All in all, he was rather pleased with them.

But maybe he should’ve taken the risk and bought the matching hats and gloves too…

Kelly ran in first with Phil close behind. He stood and hugged them, lifting Kelly up in one arm and kissing the top of Phil’s head.

“Happy Christmas, my princesses,” he said, setting them down.

Phil muttered about being called a princess as he hid the scarves behind his back before they demanded to see what he hid behind his back. It was the closest to a surprise for them he could go for and the result, in the end, was completely worth it as Phil wrapped Kelly’s scarf around her neck and the bottom half of her face. Balendon suggested they wait for breakfast before leaving for the park with Thorin.

“How’d you manage to afford these?” Phil asked, smile gone.

“What? I can’t get you two something for Christmas?”

Phil tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Dad…”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s rare enough I get some quid, let alone enough to spoil you two.”

“But Dad…” Kelly whined, brow knit in worry and brown eyes widening and her mouth pulling into a frown.

“It’s enough just spending the day with you,” Phil said. Kelly nodded. “But thank you anyway,” she said. Balendon returned with a stack of hot cakes for them and the rest of the children in the house.

After a hot breakfast and satisfactorily full, Thorin and the girls bade goodbye with promises to be back by five in the evening. Thorin lead them to Hyde Park and found a patch of ground snowy enough for the girls to play in.

Which meant a snowball fight. The girls against Thorin and when they had tired of that, they urged him to help them build a snowman, humming _Do You Want to Build A Snowman_ or even outright belting it as they did. Thorin let them sing, even if Balendon had frequently complained about how many times he had to tell all the girls under his care to shut up or at least sing something else.

Thorin was just happy the girls liked singing at all. Even in their other life, they liked to sing.

 _Or should I say past life?_ He thought as Kelly urged Phil to belt _Let It Go_ with her at the top of their lungs. An officer approached them, a remorseful look in his eyes. “Sir? I’m sorry, but you and your daughters have to go.”

Thorin fumed. “Why?”

The officer held his hands up and glanced at a pair watching them in the corner. They were smartly dressed in well-kept winter gear, if not new. The woman sniffed snootily at them as though they were dirt on her pristine floor.

“The park is public, isn’t it?” he asked. Kelly and Phil went to either side of him, each of them taking his hands in theirs. A good thing. Thorin wasn’t sure what he’d do if he got angry enough.

“Sir…”

“We’re not leaving just because some people don’t—”

“Is there a problem?” Thorin turned to the new person and froze. Will stood before him, a little boy propped on his hip. “Officer, has my friend done something to upset anyone?”

“Well…no.”

“Then I don’t see why you need to force him and his daughters to leave.”

The officer glanced at the couple and Will’s brow developed a shadow. He set the boy down. “Frodo, wait for me here,” he said.

The boy nodded and watched him leave. Kelly, as if she had forgotten the dilemma at hand, released Thorin and knelt in front of the boy, engaging him in a quiet conversation. Thorin watched Will corner the couple. The woman’s face got hilariously red and the man took her shoulders as though in need of holding her back. They strode away and Will returned, beaming.

“There,” he said. “Now there is no reason for them to leave.” The officer blinked. “Is there?”

“No. None, Sir.”

“Good. Thank you.” Once the officer was gone, Will turned to them. “Sorry about that. Those two are…not so beloved relatives of mine. They won’t bother you again…your daughters—they are your daughters, aren’t they?”

Thorin turned to Kelly and Phil, watching them keep an eye on Frodo. “Not…legally. They’re orphans that stay at a foster home nearby whom I’m friends with. He takes care of them for me, but I would adopt them if I could.”

“Ah. They’re good with Frodo.”

“Your son?”

“Yes. I adopted him from birth.”

“Frodo?” Thorin asked, turning to him. “Strange name.”

Will shrugged. “He insists on that name more than his own: Fredrick Dominic Baggins…but he prefers Frodo for whatever reason. I don’t mind, really.”

“How old is he? Three?”

“Two,” Will said. Thorin’s eyebrows rose and Will chuckled. “Yeah. He’s big for his age. How old are your girls? Is it okay to ask?”

Thorin nodded. “Kelly, the brunette, is ten. Philippa, who prefers Phil, is thirteen.”

Will hummed and they just watched them build a snowman with a now beaming toddler. Thorin shivered, hands tucked in his coat. "You're son's rather quiet."

Will laughed. “Yes, he is surprisingly well behaved for a two year old. Well, as well behaved as you can expect from a two year old. Just the other day I had to take my favorite watch into the repair shop because he tried to flush it down the toilet.” He didn’t seem upset, just exasperated.

“Why adopt?” Thorin asked. “Couldn’t you and your wife have tried on your own? Or did you…”

“I’m not married. And even if I was, I wouldn’t have a wife. I’m gay,” Will said casually.

“Oh.”

He looked at Thorin. “That’s it?” he asked, a smile tugging on his lips. “Others go out of their way to either tell me I’m trash or that they fully support me.”

“What would be the point of that when I’m gay too? I might not announce it as often, but it’s really no one’s fu—dging business.”

Will laughed. “Thank you for minding your language.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want the children overhearing me,” Thorin said sheepishly. Will nodded. “About what happened a couple days ago: I shouldn’t have run off like that.”

“Oh, I completely understand. If I told someone I just met ‘I remember you,’ I’d want to run the other way too. It wasn’t the most ordinary encounter in the world, after all. Still, I’d like to thank you for helping me. I was going to make lunch after this walk and while it is fun trying to coax Frodo into eating something other than cake, it gets awfully dull with just the two of us watching _Merry Christmas Charlie Brown_ again.”

“I, uh…we wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“It would be intruding if I _hadn’t_ offered it.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re kind and noble. I don’t know the circumstances behind your situation, but it _is_ Christmas. It’s not much, but the least I can do is offer a hot meal and some tea for your family.”

Thorin ran his hand through his hair. “Won’t you be going to some family event?”

“What? No. My family stays up till midnight on Christmas Eve and then opens gifts and have dinner then. You wouldn’t be intruding on our plans at all.”

Thorin glanced at the girls. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea. He knew Bilbo and Will was Bilbo, and so far the others he found—Balendon, Dwade, Norris, and even the girls—had been much the same as they used to be and yet also _not_ the same.

_What differences from Bilbo does Will have?_

“I suppose if you really do not mind, we can come over. I do owe you, too.”

“You mean handling my cousins? Don’t sweat it. It’s not the first time I had to call them out on their bigotry. They just hate me because of who I am and that my grandfather wrote them out of the will. He isn’t pleased with their overall attitude.” Will pressed his finger to his lips. “Don’t repeat that to _anyone_. They aren’t going to find out just yet.”

“That’s rather cruel, isn’t it?”

“Considering how cruel _they_ are in general, it’s not unexpected.”

“I take it your family’s well off?”

Will shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that…but we are big and we all have our conflicting incomes. Its not like we all work at the same place. Although, I admit I did take over my parents’ publishing company. Have you heard of Bag End Publishers?”Thorin shook his head. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. It’s nice. I don’t really have to leave home to do it and I can take care of Frodo at the same time when I don’t need to drop him off at daycare.”

“Are you an author as well?”

“No. I’m afraid not, but I’m working on a story.” He winked. “I can’t tell you the details, but I’m quite sure it gets better with each rejection I get.”

“Couldn’t you publish through your own house?”

“Ah, but that would defeat the purpose of being a respected author, wouldn’t it?” Will asked, winking at him. Thorin’s heart skipped a beat and he looked away, grinding his teeth.

 _No. I won’t interfere with his life_ , he thought. _No matter how much I want to be with him again_. “I’d like that,” Thorin said. “And so would the girls. Even if we _do_ watch _Merry Christmas Charlie Brown_.”

Similar or different, he was about to find out, but so far Will’s smile was _exactly_ the same it had been in their past life. Radiant and sweet.

It was _exactly_ like Bilbo’s smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the scarves resemble this, but it’s not exact and they aren’t infinity scarves: http://resque.goodsmiths.com/michelemade/small-infinity-loop-cowl-scarf-blue-purple-black-lightweight-crochet-knit-winter-skinny-neck-warmer-52-x4-ready-to-ship-in-2-days?p=d5ed1ed6345fea350aab61728fb218da


	3. Chapter 3

Will lived in a gated community called _Tuckborough_. Neat lawns, security guards, ridiculously well dressed housewives who probably drank more than anyone Thorin knew…there was _no way_ a mere book publisher lived in a place so…so _posh_.

“You live here?” he asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

“Er, yes,” Will admitted. “My grandparents own it and when I graduated college my grandfather told me one of the houses was available for me to move into whenever I was ready…sorry, not everyone is as blessed and it really is a big house.”

“Your grandfather? The same who disowned your—”

“No, that’s my father’s father. This grandfather is my mother’s father and…is a, well, land developer and owner. I know, some might think that’s the…I’ll just shut up.”

 _Privileged then, privileged now,_ Thorin thought before he could banish the swelling bitterness filling him head to toe. It almost took more effort than necessary to remember that this time around, he wasn’t run out of his home by a dragon, but by memories he never wanted to remember.

They entered a white house with green trimming and an equally green, if not greener, door. Hanging was an evergreen wreath with fake snow, holly berries, and poinsettias. Will shifted Frodo to one arm before entering the house. Frodo looked at Thorin with his big blue eyes. Hoping to look friendly, Thorin smiled. Frodo kept staring at him.

“Are you a Dwarf?” he asked.

“Oi! Frodo, that’s rude,” Will admonished.

“Sorry,” Frodo said, ducking his head. Will opened the door and led them inside.

“He said the same to us at the park,” Kelly said. “It was pretty funny.”

“Yes, well, he tends to ask questions like that,” Will sighed, setting him down and helping him get out of his snow suit. “He makes a game out of it, pointing someone out and saying ‘elf,’ ‘dwarf,’ ‘hobbit,’ ‘man,’ ‘orc.’” Thorin nearly jumped and looked at Frodo again.

_Frodo Baggins…was he from…there?_

Phil and Kelly offered to help in the kitchen and Thorin stayed with Frodo. “I was a Dwarf,” he whispered. “What were you?”

Frodo blinked and grinned. “I’m a Hobbit. I had nine fingers,” he held up ten. “But I got it back. Do you know Gimli?”

_Gimli? Gloin’s son?_

“I—”

“Frodo? Thorin?”

Frodo gasped and ran off to the kitchen. Thorin followed and arched a brow at Frodo, who had latched onto Will’s leg to get away from Kelly while Will showed Phil how to make lasagna while trying to maneuver around with a two year old on his leg.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Kelly asked.

“Up stairs first door to the left,” Will said. Kelly thanked him and jogged up the steps. Frodo let go of Will’s leg and ran to Thorin.

“Do you know Gimli?” he asked again.

“A long time ago,” Thorin replied. “He was my cousin’s son.”

“He was my friend. We went to the Undying Lands together with Papa. He wasn’t my papa then and he doesn’t remember.”

“I knew your Papa in that time,” Thorin said. “He was…”

He cut himself off, swallowing. “You gave him the shiny shirt?” Frodo asked.

Thorin looked at him. “Yes,” he said. “You know it?”

“It saved my life once,” Frodo said. “Wanna watch Charlie Brown?” Thorin felt as though he was in a car that suddenly and unexpected shifted into a different direction without warning while still going at full speed. He nodded dumbly and Frodo ran to the television. Kelly flopped down beside him, legs pulled to her chin and Frodo clambered onto Thorin’s lap. Thorin glanced at Will, who only smiled.

“Lunch won’t be done for a while yet,” he said, thanking Phil for her help. They joined them on the couch. Thorin swallowed, reminding himself that this wasn’t going to be happening again. After this meal, Will and Frodo would likely disappear from his life and it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.

But hurt it did, and while he could name why, Thorin felt angry with himself. Will was not Bilbo anymore. And even if he did remember, it wasn’t likely that he would want Thorin back. Not in this life, and not in any life.

 _Why should he want me back?_ Thorin asked himself steadying Frodo on his lap. Will shifted beside him, crossing his legs. _I’m not the same person I was._

#

“Feel free to come back anytime,” Will said, walking Thorin and the girls to the gate, Frodo bundled in a thick coat and propped on his hip again.

“You shouldn’t trust us so much,” Thorin admonished him.

“And?” Will asked, arching a brow. “Should you trust me? For all you know I could be a killer.”

“You are _not_ a killer.”

“And you are not a burglar,” Will said. “You had plenty of times to rob me today.” _And I had plenty of times to drug you and lock you in the basement_ remained unsaid. Perhaps that was for the better. Especially around Frodo.

“Papa, I’m cold,” Frodo said, voice quivering.

“Oh, okay, just a little longer, sweetie. We’re saying goodbye.”

Frodo nodded, frowning. His nose and cheeks were red. He looked at them. “You’ll come back, right?”

Thorin couldn’t answer that and the girls exchanged glances. It really wasn’t likely that they’d ever cross paths again. “We’ll see,” Thorin said after a moment’s hesitation. They stepped back onto the street and the gate closed. With a final wave, Thorin and the girls began their walk back to Balendon’s.

“You should go back,” Phil said. “Frodo seemed to like you a lot.”

“I liked Frodo too,” Kelly said. “He’s so cute!” A sly gleam lit in her brown eyes as her grin shifted to a conniving smirk. “And so was Mr. Baggins.”

Phil walked backwards, smirking as well. “Don’t deny that you weren’t checking him out, either, Dad. Will, I mean.”

Thorin glared at the matching grins directed at him. “I am not going back,” he snapped.

“Why not? He was definitely looking at you,” Phil said.

“It doesn’t _matter_ if anyone was looking or not—and you two shouldn’t be paying attention to that!—I am not going to impose on their life like that. I have _nothing_ to offer them.” _Not now, not then…_

The grins died. “You actually like him, don’t you?” Kelly asked. Thorin hoped the blush burning his cheeks would be mistaken for the sting of the chilled air. Thorin didn’t respond. He wouldn’t know where to begin explaining himself to the girls.

“Let’s forget this conversation ever happened,” he said instead. “It was a nice lunch with a nice and generous family. Nothing more than that.”

Several minutes more, they stopped at Balendon’s, who furrowed his brow as the girls told him about their lunch with Will and Frodo. Once the girls were sent inside to take a bath and dress, Balendon turned to Thorin.

“Who is this Will and what were you thinking?”

“He’s no one that you need to worry about,” Thorin said. “I’m not going back. Neither are the girls.” Balendon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Balendon, I wouldn’t put the girls in danger. You know that. I’d die first.”

“I know, I know,” he said, waving Thorin off. “You best get to the shelter before they fill up. Or go to Dwade’s if you can.”

Thorin’s chest seemed to tighten and he had to remember to breath. He swallowed and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be around.”

Balendon nodded and Thorin left the house, hands stuffed in his pockets and grinding his teeth. He could understand that Balendon would be suspicious, but he didn’t understand why he was always suspicious of Thorin! Balendon knew why he was on the streets—

 _Let it go and get over it_ , Thorin told himself.

A car sped past him, engine roaring—

**_“Stand firm!” Thorin bellowed as fire licked at the seam of the stone gates, sword brandished in his hands._ **

**_The gates burst open and the dragon entered, tail whipping around and the beast’s breast seemed to glow as Smaug prepared to burn them. Thrain seized Thorin and they dove to the ground as hot fire burst above them from the dragon’s mouth._ **

**_Thorin covered his head, listening to the death screams of the warriors who had run with him. “Father, where’s grandfather?”_ **

**_“Get your brother and sister out!” Thrain ordered._ **

**_“Father—”_ **

**_“There are more important things, Thorin!” Thrain ordered. “For once in your life, do as I say and get your brother and sister out!”—_ **

**_Everything changed to him running down a dark, soundless hall save for the pound of his feet against stone echoing off the walls and ceiling. He skidded to a halt in the treasure room and the sight of bright, yellow gold hypnotized him._ **

**_“Thorin!” He looked at the owner of the voice as Bilbo ran up to him._ **

**_“Did you get the Arkenstone?” Thorin demanded. Bilbo blinked. “The Arkenstone,” Thorin demanded. _ **

**_“Worry about that later,” Bilbo said. “We need to go.” He tried to pass him and Thorin stopped him, brandishing his sword. His eyes widen just a touch, but Thorin didn’t lower his weapon. “Thorin, what are you doing?”_ **

“Hey, mate, you okay?”

“Get him some air!”

_Where am I?_

“Someone call a paramedic!”

_No. No doctors…Bilbo, I’m sorry…Bilbo, I need you. Please don’t leave me. I love you, Bilbo. I’m sorry. Why did I do that? Why did I point a weapon at him? God, Bilbo, I’m so sorry…Please believe me: I love you, Bilbo. I truly love you…_

_Why did you break my heart? Why did I break yours?_

Two pairs of hands helped him up and he was led to the back of a paramedic’s van, a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a light shined in his eyes. Thorin winced. Words were spoken, and someone tried to speak with him, but he still felt disoriented and lost.

_Bilbo…where are you? Where am I?_

“…Psych evaluation…”

Thorin blinked and stood. “I’m—I’m fine. I don’t—I don’t need a—”

The paramedic eased him back down. “It’s okay, mate, you’ll be okay.”

“I just…sorry about this. I just…I need to find a place to stay tonight—it’s just the usual—” The paramedic hushed him as his partner took his blood pressure.

They eased him onto a stretcher and Thorin tried to resist, but they restrained him. While one paramedic went to the driver’s seat, the other held his hand and attempted to ease his nerves. “No, my neph—my daughters…where are my daughters…”

The paramedic hushed him and stroked his hair, promising to contact his family as soon as they knew who he was.

He felt drowsy. From drugs or his attack, he didn’t know…Thorin closed his eyes, the images of Bilbo and Will muddled together and he bit his lip.

_I have no right to love you, but I can’t stop loving you. I’m so sorry. You deserve better. You always deserved better. I am sorry for loving you. Please don’t love me. I’d just hurt you again. I know it. I’ll hurt you again and I can’t bear that…_

Thorin gasped a sob and the paramedic squeezed his hand, trying to sooth him.

_I am so sorry. I am so very sorry._


	4. Chapter 4

“What’s your name?”

“Thorin.”

“Is that your given name?”

“If by ‘given name’ you mean the name I gave myself, yes.”

“I need the name your parents gave you at birth.”

“The man who bore that name,” Thorin drummed his fingers against the table. “He’s long dead.”

“Maybe you’re not that man anymore, but whoever he was, it is still your name,” the doctor said. Thorin didn’t respond, nor did he look away from the doctor’s scrutiny. “It doesn’t mean he’s dead.”

“It’s better if he is.”

“What makes you so certain that the man you used to be is better off dead?” Thorin didn’t answer again. “Was there anything good about being that man?”

“Lots of things,” Thorin admitted. “But good men die. I’m not a good man.”

“Why do you think you’re not a good man?”

“I’m a deserter. I’m a killer. I’m a traitor.”

“Why do you think you’re a traitor?”

“Oh, I didn’t betray the country. Nothing like that, but I did betray a lot of people when I became Thorin.” The doctor stared at him blankly. Thorin did not look away. “I loved a man and I broke his heart in the cruelest way possible and I still love him.”

“Not many would condemn you for being in love with a man.”

“Not as many, you mean,” Thorin corrected.

“I’m sure there is at least one person who would want to see you again, be it as Thorin or as who they knew you as before.”

“They wouldn’t like Thorin.”

“My impression is that ‘Thorin’ is a leader. Enigmatic, no nonsense, strong-willed, even a little haughty. But despite that, he has a big heart. His trust is hard to earn and his love even more so. Whoever you fell in love with must have been someone just as enigmatic and strong-willed. Am I wrong?”

Thorin shook his head. “Look, I just want to see my daughters.”

“Kelly Archer and Philippa Egbert,” the doctor said. Thorin nodded. “Foster-daughters to Balendon Fitzfundin…why do you call them your daughters?”

“I know I can’t adopt them, given my current situation, but they went to Balendon when I found them, abandoned on the streets and I stayed in touch. They started calling me their dad and while they live with Balendon, I have taken up that mantle. I know they deserve better than me, but I can’t just leave them when they’ve already been abandoned by their birth parents.”

He left out that they were his nephews in his past life. What good would it do but get him locked up in here longer than necessary? The doctor stood and left. Once the door closed behind him, Thorin leaned against the wall and looked out the window. Manicured lawns, nurses and orderlies in crisp white scrubs…

Thorin sucked in a deep breath and sighed.

 _Just a few more hours_ , he reminded himself. _Then maybe I can go home._

It was something to cling to, if nothing else. A part of him wondered if that would really be for the best, though and he grit his teeth.

On the one, he could be crazy and stay here where he’s warm, safe, and doesn’t have to worry about getting clothes and where to find the next meal.  _Or_ he could live on the streets, wander wherever he wanted, visit people, meet them, help them if he needed to. Visit the girls. He shook his head. He’d rather be able to visit Kelly and Phil whenever he wanted, thank you very much. And he was certain the girls would feel the same.

He hoped so.

A nurse came in with a tray of food. She gave him a sweet smile and a nod of her head. He thanked her and she left. Thorin sat up and ate the food greedily. He didn’t want to stay, but all in all, it really wasn’t that bad. It really could be worse.

#

“Do you like that book?” the doctor asked.

Thorin looked up at him, then at the cover. _Sophie’s World_. He shrugged. “It’s interesting, I suppose. Cute. Textbookish with a measure of fantasy. Never thought philosophy would be so fun to read.” He marked his place and tucked the book beside him.

“Do you like philosophy?”

“I never really bothered with where we came from. I grew up in a God-fearing house, but we were quite loose. My mother believed that regular church-goers were brainwashed monkeys who listened to Paul more than they did Jesus and she never liked that. She taught me it was more important to be a good man than to be religious.”

“Sounds like the opposite of God-fearing.”

“Fear also means awe,” Thorin said. “It’s the forgotten definition, of course. We often associate fear with being afraid, but when it comes to God, fear has nothing to do with being afraid, but giving reverence, recognizing him as a…” He looked at the doctor and shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Believing in God hasn’t changed anything for me. It just doesn’t affect me.” The doctor hummed. He stood and patted his shoulder before going to the front desk. Thorin’s eyes widened when he greeted a woman with graying hair and age lines on her face. Thorin stood and tried to flee before she—

“Tom?”

He stopped, frozen, and slowly looked at her again. He steeled himself for getting slapped, yelled at, anything. She walked over to him and he flinched as she touched his cheek. It was gentle.

“Oh, honey…” Tears slid down her cheeks. “Tom, what happened to you?”

Thorin didn’t answer. How could he? “Do you come here?”

“No, sweetheart,” she said. “They called me. While you had your attack a couple days ago, they took some prints to find out who you were and contacted me. I came down as soon as I could.”

“I’ve been gone ten years. Most would name me dead.”

“I know, but I knew that you weren’t. I knew you weren’t dead, I can’t explain it. Mother’s intuition, I suppose,” she said.

“Mrs. Durin?” Thorin’s doctor said. “May I speak with you and Tom?” They followed him to Thorin’s room. “I am sorry to say, but I don’t think it would be wise for Tom to be discharged from Maudsley just yet.” Thorin furrowed his brow. “The attack he had which brought him here, we’ve learned it’s not the first time it’s happened and from the way they’ve been described, it sounds like a case of post-traumatic stress. It’s not dangerous to anyone, but it has hurt Tom a few times and I think it’d be better if he stayed in Maudsley under our care.”

“Are you telling me that after all this time, I can’t take my son home?!”

“I don’t want to go home,” Thorin snapped. She spun around and stared at him as though she didn’t understand anything he just said. “I don’t want to go home,” he repeated softly. “How do I explain myself to Dad or to anyone else?”

“Tom, you’re not the first soldier to abandon the army. Nor are you the first to have PTSD. After all this time, I don’t care what happened. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

“Mum, please, I don’t want to go home. I have a family here.”

“You’ve been living on the streets here,” she said. “How is that any better than coming home? How is _this_ better—”

“I have a family here,” Thorin repeated. “Not a traditional family…”

“He mentioned two girls he considers his daughters,” the doctor said. Mrs. Durin looked at the doctor, and back at Thorin.

“Children?”

“If I could make it legal, I would have already,” he said, crossing his arms in an almost defensive posture. She hummed.

“I’d like to meet them,” she said. “How old are these girls?”

“Kelly is ten and Philippa is thirteen,” he said. “I know their foster-dad, and he’s more an uncle to them than a dad, which works out.” 

She clicked her tongue, hands on her hips as he appraised him. “How about this: we’ll stay a bit, it’s going to take some time to convince the insurance company that you’re still alive, after all, and if these girls are as close to you as you say, then I’ll do what I can to help you adopt them.”

“Mom—”

She shushed him. “I’m just glad you’re all right, Tom.”

“I go by Thorin, now, and prefer that.”

She nodded. “All right,” she sighed. She turned to the doctor. “This is only until things are cleared up. Once they are, I want to take them home.” Thorin felt his throat tighten. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. She was supposed to slap him, lecture him—anything but do this! “Now can I at least take him to get dinner before visiting hours close? A lot has happened since he disappeared.”

“It might be better to ease him into what’s happened gradually, but yes, he can go to dinner, but if anything triggers him—”

“Our family has been in the army for generations,” Mrs. Durin said. “My father had PTSD. I know how to take care of someone with it. Tom— _Thorin_ will be fine.” She looked at Thorin again. “Go freshen up, honey.” He nodded and headed to the showers.

He knew she could handle him with PTSD. It was whether or not she’d be able to handle him if he revealed his memories of his…other life that might convince her to let him stay here.

After he showered, Thorin brushed his hair, remembering a night under stars with Bilbo outside of Beorn’s house…

Thorin set the comb down and inhaled deeply as he pressed the heels of his wrists into his eyes. He fucked up then. He was certain he’d fuck up now, but _God_ help him if he didn’t want to see Will again.

A hand touched his and he jumped. The man was older with a gash down his face. “Th-Thorin?” the man asked. He raised his hands and signed _is that you_ to him. The signs he used was not British Sign Language.

It was Igleishmek.

“Bifur?”


	5. Chapter 5

Bifur embraced him, laughing. When he let go, he held his hands up so Thorin could watch him sign.  _I thought I was the only one who remembered._

“I thought I was,” Thorin said. Well, there was Frodo, but Frodo and Thorin didn’t know each other, separated by decades then. “How long have you been here?”

 _About a year_ , Bifur signed. _They think dementia. You?_

“PTSD and perhaps something else, but I’ve not been told what it might be yet.” He sighed. “Exactly how does one go about saying that your mother was your sister in your past life?”

 _Emphasize past life. Or keep your trap shut unless you want to stay in here._ Thorin nodded. That was the point to punctuate, wasn’t it?  _Did you find Bilbo and your nephews?_

Thorin’s smile vanished and he nodded. “He doesn’t remember either. I think that’s a good thing, considering what I did. My nephews are now my not-quite-adopted daughters.”

Bifur hummed. _Pull yourself together and get those adoption papers signed then before someone else decides they want them. Being here may just be the first step._ Bifur patted his shoulder and Thorin lowered his gaze to their feet. Bifur pushed his chin up. _It is good to know I am not alone here anymore,_ he signed. _It is good to see you again, Thorin. See you around._

He left and Thorin went back to the waiting room. His mother whispered harshly into it and he touched her shoulder to let her know he was ready. She gave him a one over and nodded. He knew it wasn’t the best clothes, but they were clothes and it would do.

She bade goodbye and hung up. “Was that Dad?” he asked. She sucked in a breath and shook her head.

“I’ll explain later,” she said, signing him out and leading him to her car.

#

**_“How do Hobbits show affection?” Ori asked._ **

**_Thorin pretended not to pay attention and likely Dwalin was the only one who noticed him shifting his body slightly to better to hear Bilbo tell about bouquets and flower crowns. He mentioned baking and cooking meals as well. And that even going so far as to build a house for one’s beloved is considered the height of romance._ **

**_“Building a house?” Ori asked._ **

**_Bilbo chuckled. “Not many practice that, actually. My father did that, though. They say it’s the only reason my grandfather let him be with my mother in the first place. That and the Baggins family can be so disagreeable that one can’t really blame him for deciding to move out of those smials and have his own private place for him and my mother. Why? Is that strange?”_ **

**_“Not really,” Ori said. “We actually have a similar practice where the groom builds a home for the bride. Though we have more males to females, so the house is often just built by the pursuer.”_ **

**_“Does wealth play a part?”_ **

**_Ori scratched his chin. “It can,” he said slowly, “But it usually doesn’t. Love is love. No one is going to judge a person’s lover based on their wealth and reputation, if that’s what you mean. We’re not like Hobbits in that regard. We care more for honor and loyalty than wealth and propriety.”_ **

**_Bilbo hummed and turned, catching Thorin’s eye briefly before he looked away._ **

#

“Tom?”

“Thorin,” he corrected harshly. Her face fell and he slumped his shoulders. “Please just call me ‘Thorin’ until I’m more comfortable being ‘Tom’ again.”

She patted his hand. Perhaps she was aware that he’d not be comfortable being “Tom” ever again. “All right, sweetheart. Do you know what you want to eat?”

He glanced at the menu again and shook his head. “Just order for me,” he said. She arched a brow. Not that he blamed her for that. She knew exactly what he liked to eat and he trusted her to order something he would eat.

“Tell me about your daughters.”

He looked at her again. “You actually want to know?”

“You’ve been gone ten years. I want to know everything about what has happened since…” she paused, as if looking for the right words to use. “Since you disappeared,” she said.

“We’d be here till Friday, then,” he said.

“I think these two girls you call your children is a good place to start. And their foster father, I suppose.” Thorin chewed the inside of his cheek before deciding with finding them abandoned and taking them to Balendon in the end when it became too difficult for him to look after them himself.

“Kelly was the first. She’s ten and I found her by a dumpster,” he said. “She…I guess I just fell in love with her as soon as I picked her up.” He couldn’t very well say he was hit by memories of Kili the moment he touched her tiny hand that rainy day. “I kept her long enough to find someone who would care for her in my stead but would allow me to see her whenever I liked. I even gave her the name ‘Kelly Archer’ and it’s stayed that way. Phil was three four and I found her a couple months later in a park waiting for her mother who never came back. After a bit, I took her to the same foster family…”

“Why Archer?” Mom asked. “You could’ve given her our surname.”

Thorin blinked. “She had a Robin Hood themed onesie on. You know: the Disney movie with the all animal cast. She still has it, you know. It was green and has Robin Hood with Maid Marian on the front.”

She smiles and mumbles about getting lasagna for both of them. Thorin doesn’t bother to question her claim and she asks him more about the girls.

#

The following days are as calm as expected at Maudsley. Thorin usually spends time with Bifur (whom is usually called “Bill” by the doctors) playing chess or cards when they’re not being bothered by the nurses or eating. Balendon stops by with the girls as soon as they are able to visit, but he admitted it had more to do with getting them to stop bugging him to let them see Thorin.

Naturally, Thorin sneaks them some biscuits when Balendon’s back is turned and talks to the doctor about letting the girls visit as family members even though they aren’t listed so legally.

“This isn’t much improvement, true,” Balendon said as the girls introduced themselves to Bifur. “But perhaps it is better. They won’t worry as much nor be as upset with me when I have to turn you away. Maybe you can get a job somewhere eventually. Dwade might be all right letting you on now that you have an address again.”

Thorin scoffed. “I’m quite certain Maudsley Hospital won’t count as a proper address to send paychecks.”

“No, but your mother’s house would.”

“She and I haven’t discussed that. She wants me to come home, but—”

“If you do, you can get a job. Get a job, get a bank account, get a new home, adopt the girls like you’ve been hoping to do if anything got better,” Balendon said. “Kelly and Phil would like to live with you, don’t you think?”

“I _know_ ,” Thorin said. “I want that as much as they do. But ten years is a long time to be living on the streets.” Balendon hummed and crossed his arms. “Expect others to stop by. Norris for one, and certainly Dwade. Though, I cannot account for how Norris gets inside to see you. Expect an eighteen year old petty thief to stand over you in the middle of the night.”

“I am not responsible for what happens to him if he does that.”

“I’ll tell him,” Balendon said, chuckling, “Though I doubt that will do much but spur him on.” Thorin nodded. It really likely would. He glanced at the girls and Bifur, who was showing them a magic trick when a tiny someone ran in and latched onto Kelly.

“Frodo!” Will shouted. He was stopped by a nurse and made quick apologies to the orderlies. Kelly picked him up.

“What are you doing here, Frodo?” she asked. Thorin wondered the same thing.

“Papa’s taking me to the doctor,” Frodo said. “I _hate_ doctors.”

“This is the family we had lunch with on Christmas,” Thorin clarified. Balendon hummed and Thorin stood, approaching Will and the nurses.

“Perhaps he and his son can be signed in as my guests?” he asked. “I know them. It’s all right.” Will sent him a grateful look and once his name was signed, he sighed.

“I didn’t expect to see you here of all places,” Will said.

“Same,” Thorin said. “Frodo said you were here for him?”

Bilbo frowned. “He’s…acting out at school. Doesn’t like his teacher and calls him ‘Gollum’ and accuses him of wanting to eat the children. It’s upset several of his classmates. Of course, I can’t exactly let that fly, but he won’t talk to me. I tried telling him these doctors don’t poke you with needles, but that hasn’t really listened since finding out we were coming here to see a psychologist.”

Thorin hummed. His teacher might very well be someone from their past, but even then, Frodo knows that…is it possible…

He shook his head. “Maybe you should transfer him if he feels unsafe.”

“That teacher is someone I’ve known for a long time. He’s not Hannibal Lector. He’s been teaching pre-school for decades. _I_ was in his class.” Thorin decided it would be wiser not to comment. He never met one of his enemies yet, so how was he supposed to know? “Anyway, why are you here? If it’s okay for me to ask.” Thorin told him about his attack after they had gone their separate ways. “PTSD?”

Thorin nodded, crossing his arms. “There are…benefits to being in here. It’s not perfect, but…”

“Better here than on the street, right? Or is this too stifling for you?”

“I don’t know yet. A bit of both,” Thorin admitted. “I am sorry about Frodo’s…rebellion?”

Bilbo sighed and shrugged. “He’s never acted this way till he started preschool and I just…I don’t know how he could even _think_ I’d put him in…”

“I don’t think he believes that for a minute,” Thorin said. “He just…doesn’t feel safe with this teacher. It doesn’t reflect on the teacher at all. Maybe he’s just used to being with you more than others.”

“He didn’t act that with you or your girls. I don’t know why he’d act this way around his teacher.”

“Mr. William Baggins?”

They turned to the man and Thorin shook his head.

 _Of course it would be him_ , he thought. _Why me?_

Gandalf—if that was his name now, Thorin couldn’t be sure—strode toward them and held his hand out to Bilbo. “Good to meet you. I was told there was a little predicament in the day room while you and your son were coming in?”

“Ah…yes, squirmed out of my arms and ran inside here. Probably to hide from me so that he wouldn’t have to see you.”

Gandalf chuckled. “Lively boy.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’ll get him. Sorry about this, Dr. Gray.” Will smiled resignedly at Thorin and went to pick up Frodo from his place between Kelly and Bifur.

“How are you finding Maudsley so far, Thorin?”

Thorin turned to Gandalf, gaping. “You—”

“Some people remember sooner than others. And some need a particular jolt,” Gandalf said, winking. “That you remember may be to help you somehow. Perhaps with them.” He motioned subtly toward Will and Frodo. Thorin tensed.

“It would be better if we don’t interact often if at all.”

“And why not? You love him still. And by extension, your actions have saved Frodo in your other life. I think it is time to let go of the wrongs you’ve done and embrace what you did right.”

“Was any of what I did at that time _right_?” Thorin demanded. “I can’t risk it again. If he remembers, he will hate me.”

Gandalf gave him an incredulous look. “Thorin Oakenshield. Bilbo felt many things toward you, but hate was _never_ one of them.”

Thorin looked away and stepped out of Will’s way. Frodo looked like a very upset puppy-monkey mix with angry eyes and pouting lower lip as he was carried out of the day room to Gandalf’s office.

“Well, I’m not sure if I believe in coincidence anymore,” Kelly announced. Thorin looked at her and Phil, who were giving him matching, sly looks. “It’s official: Frodo’s our little brother. You can’t make us think otherwise.”

Thorin sighed. “I know.”

Bifur snickered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story...why?! Okay I need a plot that doesn't end up being stopping Smaug or Sauron (lots of those already). I'm thinking of having it center around a theme of forgiveness. Forgiveness of oneself, forgiveness of others, the like...should be fun.


	6. Chapter 6

Another patient was having a bad day over in the other corner of the day room, tearing at his hair. Bifur patted Thorin’s shoulder.

 _Don’t pay attention to that,_ he signed. _Ignore it if you can. Let the doctors do their job._

Thorin sighed and jumped at the crash. His heart raced in his chest and for a while, he assumed it’d possibly jump out of his chest. He turned toward the crash and stared at the broken glass…

_The window broke, a hand grenade landed on the floor and Thorin had less than a second to get everyone under cover. The explosion was deafening and there was—_

**_Dragon fire burning his back. It hurt. Once the burning article was off he was fine. His back stung from the lingering effects of the fire but he couldn’t be bothered to nurse the injury done to his back. He and his companions—_ **

_Poked their heads out after the explosion. Those who died quickly were charred black and red. Those who did not die but didn’t get under cover in time were screaming and—_

**_Wailing as they escaped Erebor…_ **

He started. Gripping Gandalf’s arms tightly. “Thorin, breathe in…and out. Again: in…and out. Yes, like that, just like that…good man. You’re safe now.”

Thorin shook his head. He didn’t feel safe anywhere.

“How about you come to my office,” Gandalf said.

It sounded like a question, but Thorin knew better. Gandalf didn’t ask. It was better to just accept that when the Wizard wanted something, he more often than not got it. So Thorin nodded and let himself be led to Gandalf’s office, trying to hide from the eyes staring at him.

Once in a chair and the door closed, he could begin to relax.

“How are you?”

“Tired,” Thorin admitted. “I hate this. I feel weak whenever I…”

“No, Thorin, you are _not_ weak. Never think that you are weak.”

“Why not? In my past life, it was dragon sickness. Now it’s PTSD and God knows what else—”

“Neither were you. Neither defined you. You define yourself. And you have in both lives.”

Thorin scoffed. “I’m nothing in this life!” Gandalf sat across from him.

“What I know is that the you in this life might not seem remarkable but you have always been remarkable, Thorin. You rescued your daughters from death when you took them to Mr. Fitzfundin and they’ve loved you since. That tells me that, despite the problems you’ve had in the past, you’re a good father.”

Thorin shook his head. He couldn’t provide for his girls! How could he be a good father?! Not even that, in the past, was he even a good uncle?!

“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your daughters the last time they were here. They are very fond of you now as they were then. They do not hold you responsible for any hardship they’ve had. And their foster father is just as fond of you, even if he doesn’t act it toward you.”

He still shook his head. Balendon hated him. Why shouldn’t he hate him?

“He’s been trying to help you accept his brother’s offer to work at their garage.”

True. That was true, but there was little he could do and he couldn’t burden Dwade that way.

“You’ve attempted mentoring to a young man there as well. Norris, correct?”

Norris?! Norris doesn’t listen to anyone unless there’s money involved.

“And of course, there’s Will and his son. They come by as often as they can, not just for their appointment, correct?”

Thorin bowed his head, holding his head in his hand.

Gandalf crossed his legs and smiled at him. “I think Will might have a bit of a fancy for you.”

“We don’t spend that much time together.”

“No? Are you sure there’s no possibility that William Baggins does not, even a little bit, might care for you the same as you do for him? Or are you _that_ determined to keep him and his son at arm’s length?”

“Gandalf, just leave it be,” Thorin sighed. “What do you want me to say? That my being a bum is inconsequential?”

“You’re not a bum, Thorin. True, you have lived on the streets till now, but the circumstances that led you to live there are _not_ of your making. Hard times come to everyone. What makes you think that your own suffering makes you less than anyone else?”

“I’m not here by choice,” Thorin said. Gandalf nodded.

“You did not come here because you wanted to, that is true. But you _are_ here. You decided to stay. Why? I do not believe it was solely for a roof, bed, and meal ticket. Your PTSD is very real.”

“What of my memories? The ones about… _him_.”

“You as Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, who gave his heart to a Hobbit and whose heart still belongs to said Hobbit across time? Frankly, I know you aren’t mad in that respect. I remember it too.” Thorin glared at him.

“Did you ever die? Or are you the same as you have always been?”

“I did, and then I came back. Then I sailed and now I am back again. The whole story, on the other hand, will have to wait till everyone else remembers. I don’t like repeating myself. Besides,” he grinned. “It’s always fun to watch you all squirm with the suspense.”

Thorin glared at him. “You’re evil.”

“I think the proper word is _cruel_ , but evil? I’d never be _that_ cruel.”

Thorin snorted, managing a smirk. “I suppose not.” He shook his head. “Look, I’ll admit that I still love him. I can’t _not_ deny that. It’s still so obvious and I…even now, he’s…”

“He might not remember at all,” Gandalf said. “Do you think that would be a good thing? You can start over. You remember so that you don’t make the mistakes you did before, he doesn’t remember and that gives you a clean slate.”

“Even if that _is_ true, I’ve nothing to offer him. Again.”

“There is yourself.”

He scoffed. “Myself,” he muttered.

“It is all he wanted then. As Bilbo, he didn’t care about your wealth or your titles or your heritage. He did not love King Thorin, nor Prince Thorin, nor Thorin Oakenshield the war hero. He simply loved Thorin. And as for Will, we did talk about you. I can’t really discuss what we talked about (patient-doctor confidentiality, you know) but I will say this much about what he thinks: he is, at the very least, quite fond of you.”

“And what purpose is there in me knowing _that_?”

“Perhaps it may give you courage to move past what has already passed and hope for a better future with your One.” Thorin gaped at him. Gandalf chuckled. “Thorin, if you think I did _not_ notice the way you looked at Bilbo the first time you saw him, rude as you were to him, you are _sorely_ mistaken.”

Thorin leaned back in his seat, stunned.

“Now, I suppose we ought to talk to your attack in the day room,” Gandalf said. “Shall we?”

He nodded. Anything to get off the subject of his old company and Bilbo.

#

“Sorry,” Kelly said, grinning maniacally at Fili as she moved her pawn back to the beginning. Now it was Bifur’s move and Thorin mock-glared at his youngest. She was on the verge of beating them and Thorin was close (she was old enough to take it…so long as he didn’t rub it in her face too much).

In the corner, Balendon and Desiree talked quietly. What about, Thorin couldn’t say. To be frank, he thought that when his mother and the girls met, they’d remember or at the very least _she_ would. That simply didn’t end up being the case. Thorin didn’t know how to feel about that.

There was a bit of disappointment. A little bit of relief. Mostly confusion.

But beside that they didn’t remember, Desiree had instantly liked the girls. Kelly especially. No shocker there: Dis had been protective of Kili as he was her youngest, and sending him away on the quest had hurt her terribly.

**_“Why must you take both my sons?!” she had shrieked. “Do you wish me so much ill that you would take my children from me?! Have I not lost enough? Have we not suffered enough, Thorin?! Do not take my sons from me! Please not my sons!”_ **

**_There was nothing he could do about that. He had tried to convince Kili to stay behind but Kili was as stubborn as he was and the idea of a quest against a dragon was far too fantasized in his mind._  ** **_Thorin tried to dissuade him, but Kili reminded him that he was, in all sense and purpose, an adult._ ** **_He would go, whether they liked it or not. Thorin had promised to protect them._ **

He failed to protect them then, he wouldn’t fail them again.

“Dad? It’s your turn.”

“Hmm? Oh.”

The girls giggled as he made his next move. Desiree squeezed his shoulder after he had finished. “All well over here?”

“Yes,” the girls chorused.

“Good! I was thinking the four of us can go to dinner tonight. There’s something I want to discuss with all of you.” Thorin looked at her, frowning. She was up to something and he wasn’t sure _what_ to expect from her now. Still, they accepted the invitation. Even Thorin, though he was still suspicious.

He excused himself and pulled her aside. “Mom, what are you doing?”

“I am _trying_ to help you, Thorin,” she said. “And if you must know, I’ve been talking to Balendon about adopting the girls.”

“Mom—”

“You already consider them yours and they’re delightful girls! I couldn’t be happier to call them my granddaughters. I will make sure to name you their father and they will stay with me while you get better. Come on, Thorin, we _both_ know that even if they are in as stable a home as a foster child can hope for, they already see you as their father. I’d rather adopt them sooner rather than later. All right?”

Thorin sighed, looking back at them. “All right,” he said. “Mom, why are you doing this? I don’t—”

“You of all people should understand. Just because you are a father doesn’t make you any different from me, sweetheart. We’re parents. You’ve done your best to look after Philippa and Kelly given your situation and I know it wasn’t ideal, but, my God, I am so proud of you. I’m proud of the girls you brought up. Let me help give them the life you want for them.” Tears filled her eyes as she spoke and now flowed down her cheeks.

Thorin sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. “Okay. I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…” Just what? He didn’t trust people easily, but this was his _mother_. If anyone could take care of the girls in his place and Balendon’s, it’s her. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Mom.”

“I know. I know more than anyone how hard it can be to trust someone again.” She motioned toward the girls. “They’re wonderful girls, Thorin. And as much as I love you and as much as they love you, sometimes a girl needs a woman to go to for the girl things. They’re getting to that age.”

Thorin blushed. That was a very fair argument. “I willingly leave that to you, Mum.”

“I thought so,” she said, patting his cheek. “Go get your coat, love.”

Thorin watched her return to the girls, engaging them in another conversation. Bifur turned to him, smirking:

 _You’re mom’s hot_ , he signed. Thorin glared at him.

 _Hands off,_ he signed back. Bifur threw his head back and laughed, startling nearly everyone in the day room. Thorin left to change into something besides the hospital pajamas.


	7. Chapter 7

The girls are given the news over dinner. The confusion on their faces slowly shift to delight at the idea of finally— _finally_ —being adopted.

“Will Dad be coming home too?” Kelly asked. Thorin was a bit startled by her sudden willingness to call his parents’ house “home,” but it went away quickly enough.

He glanced at his mother. “When I’m out of the hospital, then yes. Just until we can get a place of our own, though,” he said. Desiree frowned a little at that. He couldn’t blame her, but he was nearly forty, for fuck’s sake. He shouldn’t be living at home longer than he needs to get back on his feet.

“I suppose that will do,” she said after that slight pause. “I was thinking, girls, do you want to keep going to your current school or would you be open to attending a different one.”

Phil frowned. “What school do you have in mind?”

Thorin let them discuss private school and what ought to be included in “a young lady’s” education.

“Can we learn fencing?”

“And archery?” Kelly asked. “I’ve wicked aim.”

Thorin snorted at that, ignoring the glare he was given. Still, that was discussed as “extracurricular.” Most schools didn’t offer that as an actual class, but perhaps as clubs and teams. There was also the option of joining the army when they were older.

For Thorin, there never seemed to be an option. He didn’t go in with romanticized ideals, it was just what Durins did. But the look the girls had on their faces was more than enough to tell him that the army was _not_ what they wanted.

If they didn’t want to go into the army, then by God, he will _not_ let his parents pressure them into following the family tradition.

“Let’s hold off on _that_ till they’re old enough, Mom,” he said. She arched a brow at him. “Please. Entering the army has to be a choice. I didn’t even know that till I had already signed up.”

“There are risks—”

“And it is _their_ life. Their choice to make. I know it’s the family tradition, but I’d rather they choose without being pressured to choose, okay?”

Desiree hummed, glanced at the girls, and nodded. “All right. If you think that’s best,” she arched a brow at him, telling him she didn’t like him diverging from what they’ve known.

Still, he held firm. His girls would _not_ endanger their lives again. Hell, he was frightened that if he let them join the army, they might not come back—that history would repeat itself. A gash opening in Phil’s back and out her sternum. Kelly being stabbed in the heart…

True, it was more likely they’d be shot this time around, but machetes and swords still existed. And the thought that his daughters could have their lives snuffed as easily as they were in their past life did _not_ sit well with him.

At all.

It made him physically sick even thinking about the girls in that situation again. If his mother remembered, he was certain she’d agree rather than silently judge him for standing between their family tradition and his daughters.

On the way back to the car someone rammed into Desiree, purse under his arm. Thorin told the girls to stay with Desiree and ran after the thief. He lunged, pinning the guy to the ground.

“Jesus, get _off_!”

“Norris?!”

Cocky grin, flaming hair…yep. Thorin growled and helped him up. “The fuck are you doing stealing from an old lady! You’re lucky her gun didn’t go off! Yes, gun! That’s my mother and she’s an army vet!”

“Aren’t you an army vet.”

“I’m a deserter. That’s different. Hand it over.”

Norris rolled his eyes and gave him the purse. “Rich family?”

“From the army straight into banking. We offer great benefits for veterans,” Thorin muttered. “Wallet.”

“Seriously.”

“Norris, I will punch your nose in.” With a sigh, he handed the wallet back.

“Can I at least keep the quid? I’m starving.”

Thorin didn’t show how tempted he was to let him take it, but it wasn’t his money. He smirked. “You can ask her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Of course, she’ll punch you first, but that’s just expected.”

Norris bolted. Thorin groaned. He didn’t want to chase Norris again, but at least he got the purse back.

He checked the wallet. There was a few coins left, but certainly no notes. Well, what else could be done? He got the important stuff back. Quid was easy to get for those who could get it and his mother _certainly_ had access to it.

He returned and handed it back. “I’m afraid he got your quid, Mum, but otherwise...”

She nodded and he handed her purse back. “Who was it? You knew him?”

“I know a lot of people,” he said, “Doesn’t mean I know every person on the street. I got the purse back, didn’t I?”

She didn’t seem convinced, but she took it back and he ran his hand through his hair. It seemed like she was going to figure out whom Norris was sooner or later. It’d be easier to just tell her about the people he met, but he’d rather spare them the whirlwind that was Desiree Durin for as long as possible.

#

Norris huffed, catching his breath and keeping an eye out for Thorin. When he was certain Thorin wasn’t going to be charging through to get him, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, hand tightly curled around the money, and walked at a more leisurely pace, head high and confident.

“Nori?”

He paused and turned around.

He’d not been called that since…since he lived with his folks.

The man was his age and identical. Where Norris tended to prefer form fitting jeans and leather jackets, his twin was the one who fit best in cardigans and tweed with horn rimmed glasses (from keeping his nose pressed in a book and later against an e-book screen.)

And said twin now stood in front of him. “Ollie,” he said. Oliver Rison’s shock ebbed to stern. He grabbed Norris’ arm and led him out of the crowd toward a café. “Oi, what’s this about?”

“You’ve been gone three years and you’re seriously going to ask what this is about?!” Ollie asked, fury lining his voice. “Christ, you’re an idiot! I’ve been worried!”

Norris smirked. “I thought I was the older brother.”

“By ten minutes,” Ollie snapped. “And it doesn’t matter.”

Norris rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine…I’m all right.”

“Alive is not the same as all right.”

“Do I look like I’m starving to you?”

Ollie sighed and ordered their drinks. “Dad’s dead,” he said. “Heart attack last year.”

“Like I care,” Norris muttered. Their mother died when they were thirteen, leaving them to stay with their father who grew steadily more abusive toward them, though in different ways. For Norris, the screw up, it was certainly more of the physical variety. For Ollie, it had been more verbal and emotional.

“Who you staying with now?”

“Uncle Darry.”

“Well at least you’re with someone who’ll sew you up. I’m fine being on the street, I’ve guys who’ve been more a father to me than Dad and Darry combined.”

“Darry worries about you too, just differently.”

“Sure.”

“Nori, he’ll be okay with you coming home.” Their drinks appeared and they found a table. “Whatever you did since running away—”

“Sorry, run away? I didn’t run away. I was kicked out for saving your ass.” Ollie swallowed, lowering his eyes. “Does Darry know that you’re the gay one?” he nodded. “And?”

“Well, given that he’s bi, do you really think he cares that I’m gay?” Ollie asked. “Honestly, though, he’s a bit overwhelming with how protective he is. And healing’s a slow process.” His free hand rested over his wrist and Norris’ gut churned.

“You didn’t…”

“You were gone,” Ollie said. “I should’ve gone with you.”

Norris lowered his gaze and sighed. “No, Ollie. You shouldn’t have.”

“Then at least you should’ve gone to Darry.”

“Darry likes you. Not me. Remember: I’m the fuck-up.”

“You’re not a fuck-up. You’re my brother,” Ollie snapped.

“You’re the one in college—don’t deny it. You’re brilliant. Of course every college in the UK would want you,” he said. Ollie sighed and stared at his hands.

“Full ride at Oxford,” he admitted. Norris whistled. “But look, Nori, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Do you publish your stuff online? Your art? Are you working at the school library?” For each, Ollie’s blush got deeper. “Oh! Let me guess: you’re majoring in history, minoring in archeology?” Now he was glaring. Norris chuckled.

“I know you so well,” he said. “C’mon, Ollie, who’s going to care about me next to you, the prodigy?”

“Even the prodigal son was loved and received mercy in the end. I don’t care what you’ve done in your life, Nori. I just want my brother back.”

Oh, that was _not_ fair! Norris drank from his coffee and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m getting by. I’m not _you_ , Ollie. Okay?”

“When I was thinking of coming out, you stopped me, showing me exactly what would have happened if I had done it. If you didn’t do that, it would be me in your place.”

“Nah,” Norris said. “I think you’d be safe at Darry’s anyway. No one liked me as much. But like I said, I got by. I’m getting by.” He stood. “Let’s do this again sometime, all right?”

“Nori—”

“I’m not you, Ollie. We’re free in our own ways. I don’t know if I can go back to what I was three years ago. See you around.”

Ollie tried to follow him, but Norris managed to slip into the crowd and disappear from his brother’s sight. One glance behind him made him bite his lip. If it was just Ollie, he’d do it. He’d go home, but Ollie didn’t mention living on his own anywhere. Only that he was with Darry. He probably didn’t make enough to live on his own from the library anyway.

Either way, could he go home? As much as he had friends, he also had enemies. He couldn’t drag that back with him. He couldn’t put Ollie in the crossfire if one of said enemies finds out he has a twin.

Really, he didn’t have many weak spots and those he did, he guarded closely. His brother was one such weak spot. Hell, when he was a kid, every school bully knew it. No one touched Ollie without risking Norris’ wrath. Several actually got a kick out of it.

Norris sighed and ducked his head.

_Time to go._

He strode down the street, every fiber in him feeling weighed down. It was good seeing Ollie again, if nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver (Ollie) and Darry (Darian), you may have guessed, were Ori and Dori. Darry owns a coffee shop/cafe and, as revealed, Ollie is a protege, so we have the cliche smart twin/average twin thing going, but hopefully it'll seem more like a yin-yang thing for Norris and Ollie. And rather than being a trio of brothers, they're twins and an overprotective uncle now.


	8. Chapter 8

“Didn’t know you had a brother,” Dwade said, sliding out from underneath a car. Norris shrugged, chewing his turkey sandwich methodically. “Is he a trouble-maker too?”

He swallowed. “Far from it,” Norris said. “Ollie’s shyer and hell of a lot smarter than I ever was. It’s like, you know how some people joke about evil twins and shit? I’m the evil twin.”

“I think you’re giving yourself too much credit there, kid,” Dwade snorted. “You’re not evil. Just a little shit at worst.”

“Says the ex-parole officer,” Norris muttered, lifting the pop can to his lips.

“If your brother wants you to come home, why not just go home? You don’t have to live on the streets and I don’t get why you’d want to stay on ‘em. Thorin’s off, finally—”

“Thorin is in a loony bin for PTSD and whatever else and he’s been reunited with his mum who is now adopting my future wife. My family’s not anywhere close to as forgiving as that.”

“Again, the likelihood of you ever getting with Phil—”

“For fuck’s sake! I’m not gonna touch her till she’s eighteen! I can like her, can’t I?”

Dwade leaned against the wall. “You can, but you have to get it through your head that saying things like that about a thirteen year old leads to some rather questionable thoughts about your own psyche.”

Norris winced. “I’m not into kids. I don’t know why, but it’s just Phil and it’s not sexual, I just want to do nice things for her.” He pursed his lips, glaring at the wall. “I don’t really know how to describe it. It’s like, I’m in love with her, but it’s less about sexual attraction and more about making her smile and watching movies. It’s like I wish I was her brother but I want to marry her or…I don’t know.”

“Asexual heteroromantic,” Dwade said. “She’s still a kid.”

“Have you seen me alone with her? Once? We’re friends only and I’m okay with that.”

“It’s not that you’re friends with her that is being scrutinized.”

“I _know_ ,” Norris whined. “I know,” he repeated quietly. “Am I fucked?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck you, Dwade.”

“You asked. I just answered.”

Norris stood and tossed the plastic wrap. “I’m out,” he said. “See you around, Dwade.”

“Stay under the radar. Don’t want to hear you getting mixed up with the Gundebad gang again.”

Norris nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Honestly, Thorin’s mother’s quid would last him a little while longer than that and honestly, no one wanted to cross the Gundebad gang. If not for Thorin and Dwade, Norris would probably still be stuck with them, if not for that Thorin slaughtered their leader. He’d never seen Thorin that pissed and had, thankfully, not seen it again.

Ollie stood outside the door and Norris frowned. “Okay, I know you’re smart, but you’re not psychic,” he said.

Ollie rolled his eyes. “I asked around.”

“What?! Are you daft?! You’ve any clue how fuckin’ dangerous that is?!”

“Nori—”

“Norris, what’re you still—” Dwade paused, staring at Ollie.

Norris looked between them, confused. “Do you know each other? I mean, we don’t look _that_ much alike, but we are identical…Dwade?”

“Ori,” Dwade whispered. Ollie seized Norris’ wrist and pulled him out of the garage’s office. Norris followed, confused and startled.

“Hey, Ollie, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he said. “Just keep walking.”

“What’s wrong? Do you know Dwade?”

“No. I never met him before.”

“Are you sure? Cuz that was tense.” Ollie didn’t answer. “Ollie—”

“We’re going home. No questions. Just talk to Do-Darry first. Please. Just for a bit, then you can go off and do whatever you want after that, I don't care."

Norris wasn’t convinced. Something had happened between Ollie and Dwade. He called Ollie “Ori.” When they were little, they couldn’t sound L’s properly and when by Ori and Nori till they could say their L’s. Then it was Ollie and Nori…but still, there was no way for Dwade to know that and certainly no reason for him to call Ollie “Ori.”

But pushing Ollie to tell him what’s up wouldn’t do anything but push him further into a corner.

“Okay. I’ll go home for a bit. Talk to Darry for a bit and see where it goes.”

Ollie’s shoulders relaxed. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“But look, even if I do make up with him, what good would it do?”

“I’m not asking you to stay,” Ollie said, voice quivering. “Just to come talk to him for a bit, let him know you’re okay. I want you to come home, but really, I can’t stop you if you don’t want to…”

He knew he shouldn’t push it, but his worry outweighed the consequence. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, _God_ , I’m fine, Nori!” Ollie shouted, rounding on him. His eyes were glossy and his cheeks flushed. He sighed and pulled out a notepad and pen from his coat pocket, quickly jotting something down. He ripped the page and handed it to Norris. “That’s Darry’s address. I got to go. See you tonight or something.” He ran off into the crowd.

Norris put the paper in his pocket, shoulders hunched inward. What had happened? He’d never seen Ollie act like… _that_.

Angry and hurt before. Did he and Dwade…No, Dwade wasn’t that sort of guy and Norris didn’t know him till he was already on the streets. There was no way he knew Ollie from before then.

Right?

No possible way.

No possible way at all.

#

Ollie entered a café and ordered a chamomile tea.

**_“You’re young and the world is at your feet. You should go to Moria with Balin.”_ **

**_“But I love you!”_ **

He felt dizzy and leaned against the counter, hiding his face behind his hand.

_Dwalin is here. He’s here. Here._

Ollie massaged his forehead and grabbed the paper cup before striding out of the building. He needed to get to school. He had classes and work and homework and—

**_“C’mon, Ori, are you really intent on loving an old Dwarf? You’ve a life ahead of you, I’ve lived mine already.”_ **

**_“Yes, I do, and as it is_ my _life, I have the right to decide what I want to do with it! I am choosing to spend it with you!”_**

**_“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dwalin sighed. “I can’t love you.”_ **

_What is happening to me?_ Ollie thought, biting his lip. _It can’t be real. It can’t be real. It can’t be!_

He desperately needed to gather his wits, but how was one supposed to do that when his heart felt like it’d been ripped in two all over again without the benefit of actually having gone through such heartbreak before.

**_“What do you mean you can’t? Is this about my brothers?” Ori asked. “Dwalin, hang them! Just hang them! I want_ you _! Does that mean nothing to you? I don’t care what they say or think!”_**

**_Dwalin wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Ori, go to Moria with the others. Find the glory you deserve, and find someone who can give you what I can’t.”_ **

**_“DO I NOT KNOW MY OWN HEART?!!” Ori bellowed. He took Dwalin’s hands in his. “I love you, Dwalin. Please, don’t push me away. You’re not helping anyone. I know you love me, too.”_ **

**_At last he looked up, eyes stony._ **

**_“I don’t.”_ **

Somehow he knew he died, and his last thought was that as much as he wanted to hate him, he wanted to see him again. He wanted to tell him he was a poor liar.

And now he’s here, again, and as mad as it was, Ollie knew he wasn’t ready to face Dwalin again.

He remembered.

He knew.

He called him “Ori.”

He remembered.

#

Thorin drummed his fingers against the armrest, never breaking eye contact with Gandalf.

“Why did we come back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then why do some of us remember and others don’t?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“What do you know?”

“Besides that you still love Bilbo? That the Ring Bearer is back? That you’ve found nearly half of your company through ‘coincidence?’ What I do know, is that regardless why, Thorin, you have a second chance. That you remember, well, maybe it means you can fix it.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Isn’t that easier?”

“No. It’s not easier,” Thorin said. “If he doesn’t remember, how am I supposed to fix it? He’ll never know I had…he’ll never know how much I valued him. He’ll never understand my guilt or my need to…to make him feel like the most beautiful person in this world…”

“Thorin, Will is still Bilbo, even if he doesn’t remember his past life. And Bilbo, believe it or not, had very simple needs: I don’t think he cared for your wealth or pretty words. Yourself was all he wanted and probably needed.”

Thorin leaned back in his seat. “Are you sure there is no reason for us to be reborn and for some of us to remember? I mean, Frodo’s still very much a babe and he remembers! I don’t know what he went through, but I know that him remembering can’t be fair!”

“It’s not,” Gandalf said. “But life is not fair. It wasn’t then, it isn’t now. Life is pain and anyone who says otherwise is selling something, if I may quote from _The Princess Bride_. (I happen to find much of it’s themes to be quite enlightening, if I do say so myself.) Why he remembers, why you remember…why Bifur…I cannot confidently tell you why. For whatever reason, it may actually be for the better. But that is entirely on you, Thorin. And Frodo, since he is still very young, may need your guidance. You were there for him in spirit in his last life. And in this life, he can talk to you about it. He can talk to me, but you and Frodo are connected and are far closer to each other than you think.”

Thorin stared at him. “You mean Bilbo.” Gandalf nodded. “I can’t do it. Loving him almost got him killed. What if I get worse and I hurt him again? If Frodo and I are connected, he will never forgive me if I hurt his father.”

“Love is a risk. The question is, if you didn’t remember, how far would you go to love Bilbo again? The stakes you faced in the past, they aren’t here anymore. You are not a king, you are not on a quest outside getting better and having a relationship with Bilbo may very well help you get past the…well…past.”

“I’m a homeless bum in a mental institute. I’m quite sure that knocks me down on the most desirable bachelor scale…or whatever.”

“I think that is more for Bilbo to decide. When you met, you were little more than a glorified blacksmith. You did your best, and succeeded for the most part, even if you do not see it yourself.”

Thorin sighed. “You’re dealing with a man shouldering inadequacies of two lifetimes. I’m probably going to be in here for a very long time before I can be happy with who I am.” He stood. “See you tomorrow, Gandalf.”

Thorin walked out of the office, head bowed and hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked up to see Will and Frodo approaching. Will smiled and Thorin, not sure how to deal with the way his heart swelled in his chest on seeing him, strode toward his room.

_Running away again? Are you ever going to stop being a coward where he’s concerned?_

Thorin thought probably not.


	9. Chapter 9

As glad as he was that Thorin was getting help after all this time, Dwade wished he was available. He needed to talk to someone and somehow he didn’t think Balendon or Norris would be able to help him with this dilemma. Since the young man stopped by, he’d been feeling a rather crushing guilt.

It was like…

It was like there were _two_ of him. The Dwade who lived in this world and the Dwade that lived in another world where Norris’ brother had been his lover or something.

But _God,_ he was so young!

Dwade massaged his forehead. It was confusing and he had a migraine. Thorin had his crazy. When they met, he had called Dwade “Dwalin” with a unrestrained surprise, even a bit of shock and a bit of joy.

_“Sorry mate, name’s Dwade. I’m not your friend.”_

He hadn’t been deterred, just bowed his head in apology and strode away and the next day they saw each other again. Eventually they just…became friends.

_“Most aren’t on the streets because they want to. I’m probably one of the few who are crazy enough to claim that. PTSD, I think. And maybe something else. But I got it under control, for the most part.”_

Dwade stood. _Well, best get to work_ , he thought, setting the coffee mug down and opening the garage doors. In half a beat, his thoughts shifted to Oliver again. In that moment, he wondered if he’d be behind the door. He wasn’t and Dwade didn’t understand why that made him feel sad.

#

 _You know you could ask him to walk with you. We have a garden. He might like that_ , Bifur signed. Thorin arched a brow at him. _What could it hurt?_

He moved his knight. _Other than my pride, dignity, and ego?_

 _You’re a bum living in a mental hospital,_ Bifur reminded him. _I think your pride, dignity, and ego were lost about a decade ago at least._

 _Great_ , Thorin signed. _I lost them in the middle east then. Fuck you, Bifur._

Bifur grinned and moved his bishop, successfully taking Thorin’s knight. _I don’t think Bilbo cares about those, you know?_

_I know._

_Then stop moping and ask him to walk with you next time he comes in. Just remember to keep it PG for the kid._

_I reiterate: fuck you. You’re an asshole._

Bifur’s grin widened. _Not the asshole you want, though._

Thorin glared at him. It was either that or being scandalized and he certainly didn’t want anyone guessing that he knew what Bifur was signing. He didn’t know what became of Middle Earth—or even if this world was _that_ rebuilt…it was possible given how many…well…he’d need to figure out the exact science to know for sure…it’d be a fun project, keep him busy if nothing else.

“Thorin,” a nurse said. “You have a guest.”

He looked past her at Dwade and grinned.

 _Dwalin?_ Bifur asked. Thorin nodded. _Go. We can start the game again later._

_You sure?_

_Photographic memory._

_Show off._

He patted Bifur’s shoulder and approached Dwade. “Hey.”

“Good to see you, Thorin. Doing all right?”

“Yeah. If getting my ass handed to me by a mute vet counts as all right.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you knew igli—sign language.”

“You were about to say Iglishmek?”

Dwade paled. “No.”

“Yes you were. You…you remember?”

“So it’s not just…” Thorin shook his head. Dwade sighed. “Fuck.” Thorin led him to a table.

“What happened?”

Dwade ran his hand over his head for a moment, looking around as though he expected to be overheard and locked in a padded room. Thorin knew the feeling and let him overcome it himself. “Ori,” he said after a bit. “I saw him. For about half a minute at most before he stormed off.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“No. Thorin, it’s not. After you left, I…fell in love with him and he loved me too, but I didn’t want him to be tied down to…someone broken. I told him to leave and that I didn’t love him.”

“You made the decision for him?”

Dwade nodded. “Now he’s back. He clearly remembers too.”

“Well, tell me how that goes. I found Bilbo just before Christmas. He doesn’t remember me at all and I just…I still love him.”

“Unlike me, you’ll have an easier time making it up to him. My pushing Ori away got him killed in the end.” Thorin winced.

“Yeah, that…that could do some damage. But you didn’t know that at the time. Do you think you would have pushed him away if you did know?”

“No.”

“Then his death is not on you, Dwade. It never was. And to be honest, I wish Bilbo did remember. I don’t know about you, but I want him to be mad at me.”

“For as much as you loved him, and still love him, you didn’t know him as well as you think,” Dwade said. Thorin looked at him. “He never hated you for the madness, or for dying. He loved you. Thorin he never married anyone after the quest. We asked, told him we wouldn’t blame him for wanting to fall in love again. Truth was, to him no one compared.”

Thorin stared at him before bowing his head. “No one compared? There had to have been hundreds of others who were worthier than I.”

“If so, they weren’t in the Shire,” Dwalin said. “And he certainly never sought them out.”

Thorin shook his head. “So, Ori. He remembers.”

“Yes.”

“He’s probably just confused,” Thorin said. “But you definitely need to talk to him. Do you know how to find him?”

“Norris.”

“Norris?”

“They’re twins. Funny, was Norris his brother… _then_?”

“Yes. Older. By about a decade.” Thorin scratched his chin. “So you found Ori and you remembered. Why not Bilbo? Wouldn’t he have…”

“You’ve been at this longer,” Dwade snapped. “Why do you not know?”

“Because all things about this are, to be frank, strictly fictional,” Thorin said. “Not even Gandalf knows.” Dwade’s eyebrows rose.

“Gandalf? He’s here?”

“He’s my psychologist. I did start with someone else, but he took over. He’s also Bilbo’s son’s psychologist.”

He hated the pity in Dwade’s eyes. “He has a son?”

“Adopted. He’s not married.”

“Oh.”

“Dwade, be careful what you say to people. You might end up here with me.”

“You’re not in here just because of that.”

Thorin shrugged. They stood. “It was good to see you again, Dwade.”

“Yeah,” Dwade said. “Well, get out of here and come fill an application to the garage.” Thorin nodded and they clasped hands. “Balendon said the girls were adopted just a few days ago.”

“My mother,” he said.

“So when you get out…”

“Yeah,” Thorin said, smiling. “I’ll be with my family. Completely.”

Dwade made toward the door and stopped. “They’re—” Thorin nodded. “You knew? All this time?” He nodded again. He shook his head. “Unbelievable.” He bade the nurses goodbye and Thorin returned to Bifur’s side.

 _Ready to play again?_ He signed. Bifur arched a brow and motioned at the still open chess board. Thorin narrowed his eyes. _Photographic memory indeed. Asshole._

_You still fell for it._

#

Will woke to something laying at his feet. Startled, he sat up and turned the lamp on. Frodo held his blankie over his head, shivering. Will scooped him up. “Frodo, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I had another nightmare,” he said. “Can I just sleep with you, Daddy? Please?” Will nodded, kicking his mental butt. Frodo needed to get used to sleeping in his own bed. Still, he wasn’t exactly immune to the big puppy eyes.

“Just tonight,” he said, tucking Frodo in by his side.

“Okay, Daddy.”

While Frodo drifted back to sleep, Will lay on his back, frowning at the ceiling while thinking of another pair of blue eyes and raven hair.

He shook his head. Thorin was kind, seemed to know what he was doing just as much as Will was and his family was…messed up.

“Are you sad, Daddy?”

Will turned to Frodo. “I thought you’d fallen asleep.”

“Don’t be sad, Daddy. Please? Is it about Mr. Thorin? He’s nice.”

“Yes, he is,” Will said. Oh for the love of all things green! Was he really getting _love advice_ from his three year old son? “He is very nice and so are his daughters, but that doesn’t change the fact that _you_ , young man, need to be sleeping.”

Frodo pouted, but Will held firm. He was not going to discuss this with his son.

“You should tell him you like him.”

Will wanted to laugh. “It’s not that simple, sweetheart,” he said instead.

“But he likes you too. He looks at you like Grandpa looks at Gran but lots sadder.”

Will sighed. “Well, how about this: he’s always at Dr. Grey’s office, right? When you’re in your session with him, I’ll talk to him. Okay?” Frodo nodded. “Now will you go to sleep, sweetheart?”

Frodo nodded, scooting closer so that he could leech off Will’s warmth and hair ticking Will’s chin. Slowly, he drifted to sleep, Thorin still on the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t figure it out exactly, but he just _knew_ he knew him.

He just wished he could remember where.


	10. Chapter 10

Norris kicked a pebble out of his way, scowling at the cement as he walked onto Oxford’s campus. A part of him hated himself for this. He shouldn’t be here. Still he owed Ollie some semblance of an explanation for not going to dinner the other night. He found the library and stayed there, sitting at one of the benches on the lawn. Ori would come this way eventually.

He took to watching other students pass by. He at least looked like he belonged there, somewhat. Every so often, he’d check his watch and groaned, debating whether it was worth the wait. Ollie probably didn’t want to see him anyway—

“Nori!”

He looked at Ollie and stood. “Took you long enough,” He said. “I figured you’d be coming here sooner or later.” Ollie arched a brow.

“I was actually heading to lunch. This is the only hour I have between classes. I’m famished. Want to come?” Well, Norris wasn’t one to turn down food, so he grinned and walked beside him. “Why didn’t you stop by?”

“Nerves,” Norris said. Ollie nodded. “You want to tell me why you ran off like a scared rabbit when you saw Dwade?”

I did not run off scared,” Ollie said. “But…it’s nothing, he reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago. Someone who I thought loved me.” He shrugged. “It ended badly.”

“I’m sorry, Ollie. Dwade’s a nice guy, though, when he’s not punching my nose in.”

“I bet you deserve it,” Ollie teased.

Norris grinned. “Yeah. I kinda do.” The cafeteria is packed and Norris wonders how they’ll eat, but after getting food, Ollie led him to a table with two open spots. After inquiring whether they’re reserved, they sat down. Norris looked at him. “Since when did you get this confident?”

“I didn’t,” Ollie said. “It’s just easier this way, I’ve found, especially when I have to be at work.”

Norris hummed, taking a bite out of the sandwich. “Is Darry mad that I bailed?”

“More annoyed, actually. But he told me if I saw you again to tell you that the door’s always open for you if you want to come home. He doesn’t approve, but there’s not approving and there’s turning your back on family.”

“Yeah, I get the difference,” Norris said, leaning against the table. “I’ll probably take it up.”

“I hope you do,” Ollie said. “Darry may be stern, but he’s always been more of a dad than…than him. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Hey Bo!”

“Bo?” Norris asked. Ollie turned him around to see an older student with a beaver fur cap on his head. He grinned, waving at them.

“It’s easier to say than Boaz,” Ollie said. Boaz seized his shoulders and shook him. “Oi! Let go!”

“Who’s your friend?”

“My evil twin,” Ollie deadpanned.

“Evil is a relative term,” Norris said, holding his hand out to Boaz. “Norris Rison.”

“Boaz Urfer. Just call me Bo. Like the jacket.”

“Thanks.”

“Must’ve cost a fortune.”

“Dunno.”

Ollie coughed. “You _stole_ it?!”

“Not like anyone noticed,” Norris muttered, slouching. “Besides, it was either keep it for myself or take it to the nearest fence.”

“Or, maybe not steal it,” Ollie snapped.

“Forgive for taking up thievery as a way to keep from going hungry. It was either that, panhandling, or prostitution. It seemed like the less damaging option. I mean, there was that mix-up with a violent gang, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“Nori!”

“Violent gang?”

“See: this is why I don’t come home,” Norris said. “Even if I had one to go to, no one would appreciate what I’d do. I’m not likely to reform overnight, Ori. I’ve been doing this for years. As for the gang, I cut my ties and I’m keeping them cut.”

He didn’t want Aiza to find him. That bitch could be brutal. It was only due to Dwade and Thorin that he managed to escape her group. He’s pretty certain her kid didn’t care about that, though, he often thought he saw Bolton a few times here and there.

Whether for him or not, Norris never knew. He didn’t really want to know anyway.

Still, if Aiza was still after him, then it was better to stay close to Thorin and Dwade. To add, it would also be wiser to keep his brother at arm’s length, even if it felt similar to cutting off a limb.

#

“It would be better if you waited outside,” Gandalf said. Will frowned, watching Frodo play with Legos. He claimed he was making two castles, one out dark legos and another out of light ones since there were no black and white legos available.

“I’m not sure he’s ready to be left alone…”

“Or it is that you aren’t ready to leave him with me for an hour?”

Will met his gaze. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Gandalf.”

“I know you trust me, and I know Frodo worries you. I promise he’ll be okay without you near. Besides,” he smiled. “Isn’t there a certain dark haired, blue-eyed stranger in the day room right now?”

Will blushed, glowering at him. “Are you trying to set me up with Thorin?”

“Perhaps. Frodo, would you like your daddy and Mr. Thorin to get together?”

“Yes!” Frodo said, beaming. “I want Mr. Thorin to be my other daddy!” Well, that escalated quickly. “Daddy, your face is all red. Like a tomato.”

“I imagine so,” Will said. He stood. “If you’re insisting…”

“I am.”

“Fine. Frodo, I’ll be in the day room, okay?”

Frodo nodded and went back to his legos. Bilbo stepped outside the room and sighed, hiding his face behind a hand. _Dratted old man!_

“You look flustered.”

Will glanced up. Thorin was smiling at him. “Oh, you know. Gandalf is conspiring with my son to…” _Fuck, did I almost…damn it, William!_ “Never mind, it’s nothing. I was going to wait in the day room. Are you headed that way?”

“Bill and I play chess together most days. He’s bloody good, but I’m determined. I’m sure we can put our rematch on hold, though. Not like we’ve much else to do here, otherwise.”

Thorin smiled at him and Will had to look away just to avoid meeting his gaze and risk his blush returning. “So…uh…do the girls come by?”

“Yes, they come by once a week now that they’ve changed schools.”

“Why’d they change schools?”

“My mother adopted them in my name,” Thorin said.

“Well that was nice of her!”

Thorin nodded and held the door open for him. “It was. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.” Will nodded and they entered the room, sitting on a couch.

“Must seem like things are going right for once.”

“You’d be amazed how many people actually say that to me. Thing is, I never felt like things were bad.” Thorin stretched, and Will tried not to whimper.

_Pull yourself together, man!_

“Sorry. Didn’t sleep well last night…episode.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah. It’s always memories in the end, you know? I’m fine.”

“Good to know,” Will said, crossing his legs. _God damn, no one should be this attractive_. An older man turned to them and smirked, signing something at them. “That Bill?”

“Yes,” Thorin said tersely.

“What did he say? Sign?”

“Not something polite.”

Will arched a brow at him. “I’m quite sure there are no children here to hear you translate.”

“And if I were to translate it for you, you’d probably hit me. Then you’d hit him. And after that, security would escort you out to your car instead and Frodo would be upset.”

“How dare you use my son as incentive to keep me in line!” Will snapped, trying not to laugh despite the smile. “I won’t be offended. What did he say?”

Thorin stared at him a moment before leaning over till his lips barely brushed against Will’s ear. “He told me the supply closet was open if we wanted to use it.” Will’s face was far too hot. Thorin straightened. “See: not polite at all and now you know what I have to deal with.”

“Well, you’ll be glad to know I don’t have an urge to punch anyone, so there’s that.”

“I’ll take that as a win,” Thorin said, smiling at him and Will bit his lip.

“Yeah, I suppose.” _Oh, for fuck’s sake! Why am I flirting with him? Of all the least appropriate times…_

“I think they have Trivial Pursuit here if you’d like to play.”

“Sure,” Will said. _Anything to relieve this awkwardness!_

#

“So you remember everything?” Gandalf asked.

Frodo nodded as he finished the wall and went to the toy box to pick up something akin to a volcano that originally belonged to a set for toy dinosaurs. He set it with the blue tower. “I have nightmares, Gandalf. And my teacher’s Gollum! I _know_ it’s him.”

He grabbed his finger—the one that had been bitten off. “I don’t care if he’s good now!”

“Oh, my dear boy. Not everyone who was bad before comes back bad. Evil is not a natural state. People aren’t born evil.”

“Orcs were.”

“No, Frodo. Not even Orcs,” Gandalf said. “Evil is taught. Love, however, is very natural. It is good and it is powerful. You were able to show him love and mercy before.”

“But he tried to kill me later.”

“That is not anyone’s fault.”

Frodo looked at him. “Do you think Daddy and Mr. Thorin kissed already?”

“Well…I don’t know.”

“I hope they kiss soon,” Frodo said. “Then they could get married.”

“I’m afraid it’s never that simple, Frodo,” Gandalf said. “But you’re not the only one hoping that they get together. Your daddy could be very good for Mr. Thorin. And the same could be said the other way around.”

“Mr. Thorin’s from the other life, too, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did he and Daddy love each other then?” Frodo stared at him, frowning.

“They did. They were just finally getting to a point in their relationship where courting might even be an option, but things didn’t go as they hoped. Mr. Thorin, as you probably know, remembers, too. And as much as he still loves you daddy, Frodo, there is also a lot of anger and hurt that he is trying to dig through. It could be a while before he can forgive himself enough.”

“Daddy might not remember, but he wouldn’t care. Do you think he might remember?”

“I’m sure he will. One day.” Gandalf leaned back in his chair. “Only time will tell, I’m afraid.”

Frodo nodded and went to gather dinosaurs and horses to put between the wall and the light-colored castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we meet Bofur! And there’s mentions of Azog—excuse me, fem!Azog—and Bolg.


	11. Chapter 11

The man stepped out of the car, smoothing black curls behind his ears and buttoning his grey suit before approaching the door. Behind him stood a pair of guards.

Perhaps unnecessary, but altercations sometimes were unavoidable, especially in Club Moira. He removed his sunglasses. They were not needed in this light.

Within he could hear the grunts of a man and the slap of fists on skin.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and watched for a while as the man was beaten before a blonde woman in a red dress, legs crossed at her knees, feet clothed in black and gold heels. In her hand was a wine glass, manicured fingers tapping the glass.

She snapped her fingers and the beating stopped. One of the men seized the beaten man’s hair, pulling him up to his knees.

“Consider this your one and only warning, sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” he choked back averting his gaze. “W-won’t happen again.”

“Good.” She said. “I trust we’ll get along just fine if you keep your hands off my girls. Tom, try not to get blood on the carpet on the way out.” The man holding the other up nodded and pulled the offender up by his hair, leading him out through the fire exit. The woman turned around and grinned. “Don Grag,” she greeted. He took her hand and kissed it.

“Aiza, how are you?”

“I’m well,” she said. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

“A common enemy,” he said. “Any luck finding Norris Rison?”

“Bolt found him,” she said. “He’s been keeping to Thorin’s turf and Thorin and I…we have an understanding.”

“Right, you killed each other in Middle Earth.”

“Well, I was smart then, but not quite smart enough. Lack of testosterone helps, I find.”

“And not being an animal helps me,” Don Grag said. “What if we were to join forces, Aiza. I could use a woman as sharp as you are. In as such, your territory would expand.”

“We’ve talked about this, Sam—”

“Thorin is in the hospital. PTSD, I hear. His territory is unguarded.”

“Dwade is still there. He’d defend it in Thorin’s absence and there is no guarantee that Thorin won’t return later."

"But right now, _we_ could take it.”

“You handle your own enemies. I will handle mine. That was our agreement.”

“Aiza, you would not be tying yourself to me. I already know you could and would take over my family if it suited you. So why not let us work together? Together we could take him down, _and_ we can take down that bowman.”

“Bard is here?”

“Found him yesterday. He doesn’t remember. Yet. But Thorin does.”

“My agreement with Thorin Oakenshield has been very fruitful. He might not like it, but it works and we stay out of each other’s way. Even if he is gone, I have no reason to break that deal and one little thief that crossed me is not worth it. Come back if Thorin dies.”

Don Grag arched a brow at her. “He found the Halfling.” Aiza’s gaze sharpened and the corner of her lips quirked up in a smirk. “You remember him.”

“I do. He was an impressive little thing. Not a proper soldier, of course, but he had potential.”

“Would you be interested in knowing that the Halfling was Oakensheild’s lover our past life? When he came into my hoard, I could smell it on him. It was far too easy to get under his skin and make him doubt their relationship. It was fun. I did some digging into the Halfling this time. He’s a father. You’re going to guess who his little son is.”

“As a mother myself…”

“The boy won’t be harmed. But the boy, you should know, was the Ring Bearer. Perhaps others you know who remember could tell you about that?”

“I already know about him. The Ring Bearer was after my time and yours.”

“He defeated our master.”

“Our master is dead. His soul was mangled beyond repair. He is not here and the Ring Bearer is just a child and I. Am. A mother. Whatever you’re thinking, my answer is no. That is my policy. No children. If you want to get back at them, go ahead. I won’t be held responsible for anything that happens to that boy, especially if that child is connected in some way to Thorin.”

Don Grag bowed his head and stood. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“Darling, you keep coming to me. Not the other way around,” Aiza said. Don Grag bowed his head again, handed her a file, and left, his guards following after him. Aiza stood and went to pour herself another glass of wine. She’d need it.

“Mum?”

She smiled at the boy. “How was school?”

“Not bad. Was that…”

“Yes.”

“Are you ever going to take up his offer?”

“Not unless it’s something I can use. So far, he’s got nothing,” she said. Bolt set his back pack down and sat at the bar, pulling books out. “Norris was at Oxford today.”

“Why?”

“He has a brother.”

“See, sweetheart: that is something I can use.”

She kissed the top of his head and opened the file Grag had left.

The man in the picture certainly did look like the Halfling that had foiled her in their past life.

She wondered if he remembered, and the copy of a certain family photo, well, she could certainly say that the little boy, the so called Ring Bearer, he remembered.

It was all in the boy’s eyes.

#

_A hand seized his sleeve, pulling him behind a wall to avoid the spray of bullets._

_“Fuck!” he snarled, trying to unjam his rifle. “Piece of shit!”_

_“Here.” Aiza handed him a glock. “Use that instead. Are you good on bullets?”_

_“It’s not been a good day,” he growled._

_“Any day you’re getting shot at is not a good day,” she snorted. “I’ll get your back.”_

Thorin woke peacefully, looking out the window. He sat up when someone knocked on the door.

“Thorin? You have a guest.”

He approached the door and opened it. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll be out in twenty.”

“I’ll let her know.”

Probably his mother, then. Once his twenty minutes were up, he went to the day room.

Aiza smirked at him. “White is certainly not your color, Thorin. Blue always did look better on you.”

“Aiza, what are you doing here?”

“Samuel Grag,” she said. “You’d know him better as Smaug if you’ve not heard of him till now. He told me you were in the hospital, but it took a little digging about to find out which.”

“I’ve been here for a while. I’m surprised you didn’t find out sooner. That doesn’t tell me why you’re here and don’t say it’s because we’re old army buddies.”

She handed him a file. “He intends to use your Halfling and his baby to get to you. How’s the black outs? Doing any better now that you’re here?”

“I’m as fine as I ever have been, though my PTSD is very real. How about yours?”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” She asked.

Thorin crossed his arms.

“It’s better to just remember everything than bits and pieces. The…episodes aren’t so maddening after that. I saw a shaman in Africa about it. I’m fine. I could tell you where to find him, but you don’t exactly have the funding. Anyway, he wants me to help him take you down. Of course, I don’t betray my friends.”

“We aren’t friends.”

“We’re not enemies either,” she reminded him. “You and I have history as both and we have found a way to work together.”

“Are you still keeping tabs on Norris?”

“He stole from me, Thorin. You’re little thief has to pay for that someday. You know that.”

Norris isn’t that stupid and I’m not abandoning one member of my company. Especially not to you, _Azog._ ” Aiza shrugged.

“One day. I don’t need you to deliver him to me anyway. There’s a way to make him come to me freely. But how about this: I will help you protect William Baggins and his baby boy Freddie.”

“He goes by Frodo. The boy.”

“That’s not a name of this life. His past life?” Thorin nodded. “I will help you protect them just as we have helped protect our own. And if we can get Bard on board, we’ll be good.”

“He’s here too?”

“A lot of people are. And who knows how many of us are spread across the entire world? Who knows how many of us remember but choose to remain silent because it is not logically possible?”

Thorin sat down, meeting her at eye level. “Aiza, you said you’d help me. How do you intend to do that? Frodo—”

“Defeated Sauron. I know. Who knows how much power that child still has? Do accept my offer or not?”

“If I accept, what then? You don’t get anything out of this?”

“Oh, but I do,” she stood, smirking. “Don Grag has been wanting me to join forces with him against you for a while. He’s been keeping out of your hair, but only because he knows you’ve enough street cred that you are nigh untouchable. He’s a lizard still and like an animal, he’s only been bearing his teeth. But me, I actually managed to kill you. We are both equals, even if we are on opposing sides. This will get it through his thick skull that I don’t intend, ever, to join his family. My gang is all I need.”

“So much for being fire and death,” Thorin scoffed. “People like us should seem like nothing to him.”

“And yet…he wants you out of the way and me by his side. Like it or not, Thorin, we work better together. You know I am the better tactician. It’s not like you’ll be making a deal with the devil. We can and we will stop him. Together. Whether you like it or not.” She stood and made her way to the door. “Get out soon, Thorin. Club Moira looks forward to your return.”

“Not happening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aiza might have been Azog, but I unashamedly based her off of Fish Mooney from "Gothom." 
> 
> Meet Don Samuel Grag, formerly known as the dragon Smaug


	12. Chapter 12

Dwade pulled out from under the car’s hood and closed it, pulling off his work gloves and setting them on his bench before going to give the owner a call. The door opened just as he walked into the office. Ori stood before him, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Is there anyone else here?”

“Just me,” Dwade said. “Ori—”

“It’s Oliver, in this life,” he said. “And I want to know why you sent me to Moria like that.”

“I didn’t know that you’d be killed.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s not why I’m here. Does Norris know about who we were?”

“No. He doesn’t.”

Oliver sat down in one of the chairs. “I loved you.” Dwade watched him. “And I’m pretty sure you lied to get rid of me.”

“I wasn’t about to be selfish and shackle you to an old Dwarf.”

“It was my decision to make,” Oliver snapped. “I loved you. I think that warrants a little bit of selfishness, doesn’t it? So is that the truth? You didn’t want to be selfish because I was just—”

“You were barely of age and I was near the end of my life. I thought it was just a crush on your part. You’d have gotten over it.”

“Yeah? Well, fuck that,” he stood and strode over to Dwade. “I was in love with you. Completely and madly. If you ever felt the same for me, why didn’t you give me the chance to decide for myself? Well? And don’t use the age gap argument. I’ve heard it before and believe it or not, I might have been ‘barely of age’ then, but same here. I’m still ‘barely of age,’ but I am old enough to decide for myself whom I want to give my heart to!”

“I’m still old—”

“No. You’re in your thirties. I’m pretty sure that’s not old, Dwalin. Try again.”

Dwade crossed his arms and inhaled. “All right. I don’t remember much beyond that I pushed you away because of the age gap between us, all I know is that I wanted you and I knew it would only be one heart ache after another. Your brothers were always protective of you. And even if I managed to get their approval, there was also the fact that I would die before you, and in as such, leave you to nurse a heart ache for years after…I didn’t want that. Even if it meant pushing you away and watching you fall in love with someone else. Even if it meant you leaving and starting a life of your own away from Erebor, strong and great as you deserved to be known as. So long as you were happy, I would be content.”

“I wasn’t happy,” Oliver said. “How could I be happy when my One pushed me away? You rejected me, Dwalin, and you treated me like a child. So honestly, I wish I didn’t remember because it feels like my heart is broken again and it’s not even for a relationship we had! I just met you. I shouldn’t feel this way. You know that, right?”

“I do. I feel it, too.”

“Good. I have to be an idiot to trust you again, but one way or another, we both remember, so if this is a second chance I’m going to take it. Will you have dinner with me Saturday?”

Dwade arched a brow. “Can you afford it?”

The scowl he gave Dwade was _far_ too much like Norris for his liking. They really were twins…“I can manage a date, thanks. But don’t expect anything fancy. I think we’d both choke if we had to go someplace spazzy, so if you’re okay with a club scene…”

Dwade arched a brow and smirked. “With a karaoke machine?”

“I will not be getting up on the stage and neither will you unless we’re completely pissed. But if we’re careful, the worst we would have to do is watch others make idiots of themselves.”

“Fair enough. I’m confused: are you mad at me or…”

“Oh, I’m still furious with you. But that was another life entirely and none of that happened in this life so…I’m willing to try again if you are.”

Dwade nodded. “I am sorry.”

“What happened in Moria is not your fault.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t push you away.”

“We don’t know that. In Erebor, it was possible that I’d be crushed by bad rock or a shelf could’ve fallen on me in the library. For you, and the dangers you put yourself through your whole life, it was likely that you could die by the sword as much as you lived by it. All I ask is that you let me make my own decisions. Don’t ever make them for me again.”

Dwade nodded. “I can do that,” he said.

“Good. I’ll meet you here Saturday night. When do you close?”

“On Saturday? Six.”

“I’ll meet you at seven, then,” Oliver said before striding for the door. “Bye, Dwalin.”

“Dwade. It’s Dwade now.”

“Okay then. Dwade it is. I’ll see you Saturday.”

The door closed behind him and Dwade shook his head. Still as assertive as ever. Even if he was a bit shy then, he was mostly just stifled by Dori…it didn’t seem that was the case now.

Dori had been more than over-the-top with Ori in their past life and the fire Ori had in him seemed to have been quenched as often as it could be. And as Dwalin, there was little he could do about that.

Regardless, it was not quenched now. He was certain Oliver was always stronger than anyone thought. Even him. It was good to see that strength again.

#

Phil glared at the chess board, though Bifur was doing his best to teach her the game as Thorin was currently busy congratulating Kelly for getting top marks on her last test and listening to her talk about her new school and new friends when Will arrived with Frodo propped on his hip. Frodo was asleep against his shoulder from having had another nightmare in the middle of the night. The kind that ended up frightening Will awake with his screaming.

Frodo wouldn’t tell him what he was dreaming about and Will refused to show it, but it hurt that his son wouldn’t trust him with the contents of his dreams. They arrived at the hospital early so to get a coffee (and a hot chocolate for Frodo) to perk up with and since Frodo still slept, the hot chocolate would have to wait till he woke up or after his appointment with Gandalf.

He entered the day room and approached them. “Good afternoon,” he said. Kelly and Thorin looked at him. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“Not at all,” Thorin said.

“I got top marks!” Kelly proclaimed, showing her test to Will.

“Wonderful,” Will said. “I take it you like school?”

“I do,” Kelly said. “More than Phil does.”

“Yes, well, not all of us get a Tara and Lea right off the bat,” Phil said. “It’s not bad, though.”

“It’s not as though Gimleigh hates you, she’s nice in her own way,” Kelly said. “But she is a bit blunt…and she’s very smart. Lea likes her a lot.”

Phil smirks. “Just as you like Tara?”

Kelly blushed, trying to hide it in a glare.”

Thorin cleared his throat. “Girls,” he said. The way they backed down was akin to cat claws being retracted and they grinned at him, feigning the innocence of kittens.

Will laughed. “I don’t know if I could do what you do: raise girls, I mean,” he said. Frodo whimpered, peaking at them from half open eyes.

“Daddy?”

“You want your hot chocolate now? We still have a little time before you need to see Gandalf.”

“Yes, please. Can I stay with Kelly?”

“Of course, sweetie,” Will said, transferring Frodo to Kelly.

“Bifur’s in charge,” Thorin said. Phil sent him a glare.

“I don’t need a minder,” she said.

“Nice try, princess,” he said. “I’ll get you both hot chocolate for the trouble I put you through.”

“I will not be so easily bought.”

Thorin shook his head following Will out of the day room and down to the café. “She is getting really sassy.”

“She’s a teenager,” Will said. “Were you not sassy yourself?”

“Well…” his teen years were a fusion of punk rock, guyliner, and skinny jeans. “I kind of was, in my own way. What about you?”

“Believe it or not, I was actually that kid in the back of the classroom drawing on his jeans and not wanting to be seen. Most of the time, I succeeded. You know. The recluse who felt better off without anyone and wanted to be left alone because in your warped mind it was better to be invisible than draw attention to yourself otherwise you’re a beacon for the school bullies.”

He smiled at Thorin, trying to assure him and himself that he wasn’t hurt by it. “College was easier, in a way, the campus pride club really helped.”

“You shouldn’t have needed to hide.”

“It was a different time,” Will said, shrugging. “We know that. It’s easier _now_ , but in high school? Well, let’s just say I prefer to leave that in the past if that’s all right with you.”

“It is,” Thorin said, sighing. They stepped into the café’s line. “That doesn’t mean I like it. You’re radiant.” He blushed and Will’s eyebrows rose comically. “And I should have kept my mouth shut! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I just…”

“I like you, too,” Will said, grinning, “Though I don’t think anyone’s ever confessed to me like that before. It’s cute. And honestly, if it’s any consolation, I think you’re radiant, too.”

Thorin’s blush deepened and he felt like air. “I can’t leave grounds with people who aren’t family, so I’m afraid a proper date is out of the question till the doctors say I’m free to go home, but there’s plenty to do in the dayroom and when the weather’s nice the grounds are wonderful for a walk…”

“I’d like that. And to save you from cafeteria food, I’ll cook something for when this date happens. Next Saturday all right? No regular visitors?”

“The girls come here after school nearly every day now that the adoption went through and my mum does, too. Saturdays are free, for the most part.”

“Saturday at noon then,” Will said, beaming.

Thorin nodded, speechless. _If he remembered, he wouldn’t even be giving me this chance. I shouldn’t be allowed near him…not after what I did…_

“Three small hot chocolates…would you like something?” Will asked.

“No, I’m good.”

Will handed the barista his card and they went to the counter to wait for the drinks. “So Kelly’s also…”

“I don’t know,” Thorin said.

“I shouldn’t be asking, actually. Not my concern.”

“I don’t think she’d mind and I personally don't, but it’s the first I’ve heard of her liking another girl, and that’s if it’s a romantic interest.”

Will nodded. “That makes sense. Frodo has a crush on a boy in his class, last I heard. It’s actually really cute and his teacher is fairly open to it for his age.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? The teacher?”

“Yeah.”

_Fuck, I love him._

The drinks appeared and they carried them back to the day room and once Frodo got his drink, Gandalf came to get him for their appointment and the girls grinned gleefully at the announcement of their first date. Even Bifur was pleased by that, signing reminders to use condoms at them, which earned him nothing more than the finger when the girls weren’t watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tara and Lea are Tauriel and fem!Legolas, they’re now twins. And fem!Gimli. Guess what, Gimli is a norse name! Where in Khuzdul, it means “Star,” here it is a Nordic name meaning “from the most beautiful place on earth” and has various different spelling options! None of them remember, but maybe when the old Fellowship gets together? Don’t see why not…
> 
> I should make a list of who is who and put it at the beginning of the story…would that help everyone or is it easy to keep track of who is who? I honestly don’t know who will show up here. So far I had only planned on the company and Fellowship and then we got Smaug and Azog!


	13. Chapter 13

Saturday came quicker than Thorin expected. It wasn’t ideally warm outside, but it was warm enough for a short walk if nothing else. Thorin paced his room, unable to sit still.

_What if he remembers today?_

_No, he hasn’t remembered yet. There’s no guarantee he will remember me._

_But what if he does?_

_Damn it, deal with it if it happens._

_How am I supposed to deal with it if his first memory is_ that _day?!_

Thorin sat on the bed, shaking, and held his head in his hands. “Calm down.”

_This is far more than you ever will deserve._

“Calm down.”

_If he remembers, who’s to say he won’t hate you? Who’s to say he has no right to hate you?_

Thorin dug his fingers into his hair and sucked in air.

_You were nothing then. And are nothing now. All you’ve ever been was broken._

“Thorin?” He looked up. Will stared at him and he lowered his head, biting his lip. “Do you not want to go outside today? It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

“No. No it’s not that,” Thorin said, pulling a smile to his face. Will set down the basket he carried on the table and sat beside him.

“What’s wrong? You look quite distressed.”

“I’m fine,” Thorin said. Will arched a brow, unconvinced. He sighed. “I don’t understand how you could want to be with me. I’m homeless. I’m a coward who deserted—”

“No, you’re not. You’re not homeless. And having PTSD…I don’t know why you felt you had to desert the army, but no one will call you a coward for that. And yes, you’re here. You’re getting help for it. That’s very brave. Most men don’t want to admit their weaknesses, and yet there is _nothing_ wrong with having weaknesses. I’m here because I want to be with you. I really like you, Thorin. Homeless or not, you’re a dad who did the best he could and still does the best he can in raising two young women, who are amazing. I’ve seen you with my son and I don’t really know why, but I trust you.”

Bilbo pressed his hand against Thorin’s cheek. “I know times have been hard on you. But you’re stronger than you think and I know you can beat whatever you’re going through. And I would like to be there to support you, if you’ll let me.”

Thorin closed his eyes, soaking in the warmth of Will’s hand. He still thought he’d never deserve this. He wasn’t sure he would ever be worthy of him again, and that was considering if he ever was worthy of Bilbo in the first place.

Will leaned forward.

“Can I kiss you, Thorin?”

Thorin nodded and Will pressed their lips together, his hand cupping the back of Thorin’s neck. Thorin’s fingers curled inward, nails digging into his palms to keep himself from touching Will in return. Will nipped at Thorin’s lips and dragged his nails over Thorin’s neck. Thorin groaned when they pulled apart.

Will pressed a last gentle kiss to his lips. “Hungry?”

“Still nervous.”

“Don’t be,” he said, grinning. “I don’t bite.” Thorin arched a brow at him. Will stood, pulling Thorin up onto his feet. “I nibble. There is a distinct difference. Besides, you weren’t complaining.”

“What’s to complain about?”

Will snorted, picking the basket up and resting the strap over his shoulder. “We can’t say we’re really dating yet and you’re already finding ways to save your arse.”

“I wasn’t the one who kissed me.”

“I asked. You said yes.”

“I did,” Thorin said, opening the door. “I won’t deny that.” Nor would he deny how he practically melted against Will’s kiss, feeling the doubt wash away.

And he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember anything. At least, it didn’t seem like he did.

Thorin followed Will out of the room and closed the door. They walked outside together, enjoying the chill and sun till they found an empty park table to set lunch on.

 _You can’t guarantee this won’t last,_ the memories echoed.

 _No, I can’t,_ he thought, chewing his ham sandwich as Will told a funny story about Frodo. _But I will hold onto this for as long as I can._

#

Dwade tugged his coat on and walked down the stairs to the office.

Oliver stood outside, leaning against the wall. Dwade sucked in a breath and stepped outside, locking the door.

“So,” he said, turning to Oliver. “Where exactly are you taking me.”

Oliver arched a brow and smirked. “Like I said: a club.”

 _Cheeky_.

The club in question was dark lit in soft blue and amber light with a red carpet and an abundance of white furniture around Tuscan brown tables while dance music blared from the dance floor. 

“What?” Ori asked, arching a brow. “Not what you were thinking?”

“I was expecting more laser lights,” Dwade admitted.

Oliver laughed. “There are, but it’s not like they get used as much as you think. C’mon, let’s get some drinks before going on the floor, eh?”

“There is not enough liquid courage in the world.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to dance. I’m sure there are other lads on the floor who’d like to dance with me if you aren’t keen on it.” Dwade could see it happen. Some nameless, faceless other man grinding his hips against Oliver’s? Biting that pale neck and sliding hands under that cardigan? It made his blood boil.

Drinks were brought and a table taken over. They spoke of their memories, and of how this life had treated them thus far. Dwade was horrified to learn of Oliver’s father and felt an unexpected respect for Norris who lied to protect Oliver from him. He felt relief to learn that Oliver had found Dori—now an uncle who, while still a fuss-pot, wasn’t as suffocating has he had been before. He was impressed that Ori was able to find a way to balance work with school and a social life.

“Lots and lots and lots of pre-scheduling,” he said. “That and minimal sleep with an unhealthy amount of coffee every day.”

“Huh. Coffee. How does your uncle feel about that?”

“He thinks I’m nuts but can’t really do anything about it. You?”

“Hey, I work with cars. I _need_ to be alert unless I want to be squashed by one.” There were a number of horrific examples that he could use to describe why he’d need to be awake at work, but decided to leave the gruesome tales at home.

“Yeah, that could be a problem, I suppose.”

“Suppose?! You wound me.”

Oliver snorted and took a drink. “I wouldn’t say I _wounded_ you, though I would not dare to claim I know your mind—”

Two men dressed in black head to toe opened the door and a woman stepped in. Her black velvet heels were sharp to a point and her green-gold dress seemed akin to a dragon’s hide. Yellow hair was pulled out of her face, allowing her diamond drop earrings to be seen.

Aiza spoke with a man in hushed whispers. He nodded and left.

“That’s Azog,” Oliver whispered.

“Goes by Aiza these days,” Dwade said. “She and Thorin have a turf agreement. I didn’t realize this was one of her places.”

“I never knew about that. Thorin’s a gang member?”

“No, no,” Dwade assured him. “He and Aiza are old army buddies. Keep your head down. She’s got beef with Norris.” Oliver stared at his hands instead and Dwade took one of them in his, hoping it would be enough to help Oliver stay calm.

“Dwade,” Aiza called. “I didn’t think this was your scene.”

“Not my usual,” he said, standing and approaching. Aiza kissed his cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Collecting rent,” she said. “I thought that’d be obvious. Date?”

“Not your business.”

Aiza tsked, waving her finger. “This is my turf, everything is my business this side of London, Dwade. Besides, it’s just an innocent little question. What are little questions between friends?”

He didn’t respond, meeting Aiza’s wicked gleam with a challenging glare.

“Yes, it’s a date.”

“Then don’t let me keep you. For a moment, I did think it was Norris. But he’s not, is he?”

Dwade stepped back. “Just take your money and go, Aiza.”

“You remember, don’t you?” He didn’t respond. Aiza cleared her throat. “Enjoy your date,” she said as the manager returned with an envelope. She patted his cheek and met Oliver’s gaze. She winked and left with her lackeys.

“Why did Azog come back?”

“I don’t know, but like I said: she and Thorin have an agreement of some kind in honor of their past. I don’t know how they feel about who they used to be.”

“I don’t like it. We may all be human now, but she was an Orc. She _killed_ Thorin.”

“And they’re both alive now. Thorin usually deals with her on his own. He always comes out okay, though. I don’t know the details, but I do know that Thorin protects his turf from her and she protects hers from him. Your brother won’t go anywhere near her places. That’s how bad she has it out for him. Oliver.” Oliver met his gaze. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Do trust me that much?”

Oliver nodded. “You okay with going somewhere else?”

Dwade grinned. “You still like chips. I know a place that has the best chips in all of London.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't get this up yesterday. I literally hit a writer's block and tried 3 times to get it up...couldn't do it. Anyway, it's here now. :)

“Phil!” Kelly shouted, joining her across the courtyard. “Have you eaten yet? You want to eat with Lea and Tara with me?”

Phil stared at Kelly for a moment. It was either join her sister or finally have that show down with Gimleigh. For a moment, she debated turning Kelly down, but decided against it.

“Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

If Gimleigh has an issue with it, well, Phil didn’t really care.

Really, she didn’t…

Maybe she cared a little bit.

She shook her head. She had no reason to fear Gimleigh’s judgement and tried to tell her that Gimleigh was just jealous that she had a sister. Granted, announcing that they were adopted had gotten them a lot of weird looks and snide comments.

When she confessed to Gran about it later, in tears, Grain said:

_“They don’t understand how special an adopted child can be. To them, they think you were not wanted. Sweetheart, there is always going to be someone who wants a child and will look to adoption to find his or her child. Most of them think they’re wanted because their parents kept them and they are, but so are you and Kelly. But what makes you more special than most children is that you weren’t just wanted. You were chosen. Your dad chose you and he did the best he could in his circumstances.”_

_“But my birth-parents, and Kelly’s…they abandoned us,” Phil wept._

_Gran pet her hair and hugged her tighter. “Maybe, but you were found and you were cared for. I know it wasn’t stable, but you’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman. You and Kelly both. Who is responsible for that? You’re birth parents or your dad? Sweetheart, they didn’t deserve you. They weren’t ready, but the best thing they did was let you live. Same as Kelly. Maybe they didn’t intend to, but they did. I am very proud to call you and Kelly my granddaughters, Philippa.”_

There was _one_ benefit Phil found with eating with the fourth graders—they looked up to you. Both boys and girls gazed at Phil with awe while her classmates either thought her mad or really brave.

It wasn’t anything like that. She just cared more about her sister than her reputation.

The courtyard where they ate was connected with the neighboring boy’s school, run by Lorien’s Headmistress’ husband. So while the girls attended Lorien, the boys would study at Doriath next door, and they coordinated recesses and meal times so that they might interact with each other.

One of the things Phil noticed about the boys who attended Doriath was that they were polite.

She didn’t know why, but when she asked Arden, one of the boys her age, he said that the headmaster and headmistress were feminists and so boys had to take an etiquette class of sorts on how to properly handle girls. It wasn’t holding the door open for them or kissing hands sort of thing.

“It’s more…say I were to see Archie and start shouting how much I wanted to shag him even though I don’t know him.”

Archie, the only boy attending Lorien since his parents had yet to accept that he was trans (and he was certain they never would), and Arden’s boyfriend, arched a brow at them at the mention of his name.

“I would have objectified him and belittled him. We’re taught that no matter what we think about the situation, that’s _never_ going to be okay because catcalling is dehumanizing. We’ll never understand why, probably, but we are taught that if we must shout at a woman, just say something affirming that has nothing to do with her appearance and let her go on her way. If she’s interested after that, she’ll talk to us back. Maybe.”

“Not that you would, though.”

“Nope,” Arden slid into the seat beside Archie and kissed his cheek. “I’m quite happy.”

“I’m sure you are,” Archie said. “Now will you eat?”

“Yes, sir.”

“God, you two are cuter than allowed,” Phil said, grinning at them. They really were cute.

“Blegh,” Lea said, sticking her tongue at them.

Arden flicked mayonnaise at her nose and she squeaked, diving under the table.

“Brat,” Arden snapped.

“I’m surrounded by children.”

“At least you don’t have to live with her,” Tara said, nudging her twin in the ribs. “She’s got a huge crush on Gim—” Lea covered Tara’s mouth with her hand, blushing.

“It’s not like that. She’s nice when she wants to be and helps me with my math homework.”

“She’s nice?” Phil and Kelly deadpanned. Lea blushed deeper.

“She’s also pretty tough.”

“Yeah, she is,” Phil said. “I don’t get why she hates me so much.”

“Huh?” Archie said. “Gimleigh doesn’t hate you. It’s not that at all, it’s just that you’re the new girl, and you grew up in foster care before getting adopted, so they sort of got this idea that you’re tougher than she is and she thinks she smells competition. Plus, you’re on the fencing team and she’s captain. She’s scared that you’ll take her place because of how talented you are with a foil and saber both.”

“She’s mastered all three swords though.”

“But not without years of practice. You’re still a rookie and you’re already better than most beginners. I’m also a fencer and I’m best with an epee, but once you start using the epee, it’s likely that you’ll be just as good as Gimleigh and me both. Gimleigh’s not used to seeing someone match her skill.”

“Just like how Lea didn’t like Kelly at first because Kelly’s so good at archery. But now they just have competitions to see who gets a bull’s-eye first,” Tara said.

Phil sighed, drumming her fingers against the table as she ate a carrot dipped in dressing. “You know how they say boys can be cruel?” she said.

“Girls are worse,” Archie said. “I know that very well.”

“Yep…”

“Erm…Brom! Faran! Get your arses over here,” Arden said, spotting Doriath’s best troublemakers.

The brothers looked at him, then at each other before running off. Arden growled and climbed over the table, jumping over the girls’ heads to get to them.

Archie shook his head. “I do not know why he thinks he can climb over furniture just because he wears a bloody prefect badge, but hell if I can stop him.”

“It is a little entertaining,” Phil said.

Archie snorted. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Who’s that? New student?” Kelly asked, motioning to a boy with cropped blond hair.

“Not really,” Archie said. “That’s Bolton Gunde. His mom’s a gangster of sorts or something. Maybe a she’s a Mafia Don. Why?”

“Just curious? Does he always eat alone?”

“Arden’s a year above him, but I don’t think people really want to get close to him because of his mom.”

Phil frowned. “His mom wouldn’t happen to be Aiza Gunde, would it?”

“I think so, yeah.”

She stood. “Keep an eye on my sister for me, Archie?”

“Sure.”

“What are you doing? Phil, he looks mean!”

“So does Dad, remember? His resting face is usually a scowl.”

Phil approached him. She swallowed. “Can I sit here?” she asked.

Bolton stared at her and he looked, well, shocked.

He nodded and Phil sat down, extending her hand. “Philippa Durin.”

“You’re Thorin’s daughter,” Bolton said.

Phil nodded and he stared at her hand for a moment before grasping it.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah. Actually, I think you’re mom’s pretty cool.”

“She’s…something. I wouldn’t say cool, though. Scary is closer.”

“I thought you’d go to a public school.”

“Nah, Mum likes Doriath’s program. She thinks it does a better job of teaching boys how to be gentlemen. Which it does, but really, its stuff I already know from being her son. You know what I mean?”

Phil nodded. “I think so. She’s…formidable. Honestly, I kind of admire her. I’ve never seen a woman that strong and in control of herself before. Most women I’ve seen have a quieter strength. I like that hers is not quiet. You probably don’t want to talk about her, but she’s…”

“The only thing you know about me.”

“At the moment, yeah,” Phil said, smiling at him.

“It’s fine. I only know about your Dad, too. I know that our parents were army buddies and that your Dad’s pretty formidable too, despite that he’s…”

“It’s okay. I know. But his PTSD is not as bad as you think or even as bad as everyone else thinks. He’s got it under control and now that he’s getting treatment, he’s much better. It really could be worse.”

“I’ve seen you fence,” Bolton said. “Have you fenced before?”

Phil shook her head.

“I suppose that’s talent for you. I’m on the wrestling team. Maybe you’d like to go to one of the matches? There’s one Friday if you want to go.”

Phil grinned. “I’d love to, but you’ll have to go to the first fencing match of the year next week.” Bolton smiled and held his hand out.

“Deal.”

#

Thorin stared at Phil, stunned.

_No. Absolutely not. Over my dead body._

Of course, he couldn’t really tell her why he disapproved. Well, _really_ disapproved, anyway.

“Dad?”

“That’s great, Princess. But…don’t you think you’re a bit… _young_ to be dating.”

“God! Dad, I’m thirteen years old and we aren’t dating! We’re just going to each other’s matches and maybe to dinner. It’s not like it’ll be unchaperoned or anything like that…”

Even if it was chaperoned.

“Yeah, thirteen’s a bit young to be dating.”

“ _Dad_ , we’re not dating!”

“You say that now.”

“Oh my God!” Phil groaned, hiding her face in her hands. Kelly kept giggling in the corner, which wasn’t helping either of them. “Dad, like I said: Gran will be there. So will his mum.”

_Is that supposed to make me feel better?_

“Just…before you do anything, make any decisions, I want to meet the kid.”

“ _Dad!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...  
> Archie is Aragorn, Arden is Arwen. Brom and Faran are Boromir and Faramir.  
> I think that's all the new characters featured this chapter?


	15. Chapter 15

“Can we meet your dad?” Lea asked Kelly. Kelly looked at Lea and Tara. Beside them were Brom and Faran. Why those two troublemakers decided to sit with them today, Kelly couldn’t figure out, but she knew that Brom was friends with Lea. Something about having lived next to each other on the same street. Besides that, it didn’t make sense.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think Phil and I should talk to Dad first before we start bringing over friends. I don’t _think_ he’d mind, but I can’t really be sure. Though if Will’s there, he probably wouldn’t mind much.”

“Who’s Will?” Faran asked.

“He’s a friend and his son sees a doctor there.” 

“His son’s—”

“Frodo has bad nightmares and he doesn’t associate with others well,” Kelly said. Other than that, she wasn’t going to say more about Frodo. Poor kid didn’t need this many people looking at him like a freak even though he was a really sweet kid as far as she could tell. He liked her and Phil anyway. How would he react to four new faces?

She stabbed her pasta salad and glanced at Phil who had, since she first talked to Bolt, begun spending more time with him. Kelly wasn’t sure Phil noticed Bolt’s blush around her, but Kelly did. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole thing. Dad didn’t like it, but that was probably because he was a dad rather than that he had something against Bolt.

As for Gimleigh, she didn’t seem all that keen on letting go of Phil’s presence in Lorien. It kind of sucked for Phil, Kelly guessed, sharing classes with someone so relentless, but Archie usually managed them both pretty well.

“So…is that a soft yes?” Brom asked.

“I suppose,” Kelly said, but let me talk to my dad first, okay?”

She spotted Gimleigh approaching the table. Gimleigh was petite with a wild mane of red curls and hazel blue eyes. She had a heart shaped face and a small mouth. It wasn’t her looks that made heads turn, though, but her presence. There was something about her that screamed Amazon Queen. She glanced at Phil and arched a brow before joining her teammates.

Beside Kelly, Lea sighed and Tara rolled her eyes. Faran and Brom glanced at Kelly, who shrugged. So long as Gimleigh left Phil alone, she would say nothing on the matter.

“You know she’s never going to look at you like that,” Tara said. Lea elbowed her ribs and scowled.

“Give it a few years when you’re both adults,” Kelly said. “Maybe you’ll have a chance then. Nothing good really comes out of dating an upperclassman.”

“Well _thanks_ for your support.”

“Besides, she just tutors and babysits you two. You really think she feels romantic attraction toward you, Lea?” Lea sighed, blinking. So she knew it likely wasn’t going to happen. Kelly patted her shoulder.

“One day, maybe, but for now, it’d be better to stick with your age group,” Kelly suggested.

Lea nodded, resting her chin on top of her hands.

She could imagine how much it sucked, not being able to act on one’s feelings for another person because of the age gap between them: something that will be inconsequential when they all reached voting age. At least for Lea and Gimleigh, it would be.

Kelly glanced at Phil again, she was laughing at something Bolt had said and he had this grin on his face. Yep, poor guy was smitten. Kelly didn’t know if Phil noticed, but…

There was something about Bolton Gunde that bothered her. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but it made her uncomfortable. He was nice and he was polite but Kelly couldn’t help but wonder:

Was he good?

Was he the kind of guy who’d love her enough to make an idiot of himself?

These were important questions.

He made her laugh. That was always a good sign.

Still, Kelly would keep her eyes open and watchful. She couldn’t place her finger on why she didn’t trust Bolt, but she had good instincts before. She hoped they wouldn’t fail her now.

#

“How many friends do you want visiting?” Thorin asked Kelly, arching a brow.

“So far it’s just four, but it may be as many as…erm…six or eight,” she said. Thorin scratched the back of his head. “They’ve heard a lot about you, but if you say no, I think they’ll understand.”

“No, they can, just…not that many at one time,” he said, “How about the four who asked and if others are interested, we’ll discuss it eventually. Where’s Phil?”

“It’s Friday, remember? She had that thing with Bolt and Aiza Gunde.”

She saw his eye twitch. “I see. Is Gran with her?”

“I don’t think so.”

Thorin shot up and approached a nurse, asking to use the phone.

#

Aiza was impressed.

Very impressed. Her son was strong and quickly making his way toward first place and if she noticed he was putting a little more effort in it than usual, she only gave the girl sitting beside her a kind smile and cheered him on as she usually would.

Her phone rang and she left the stands to take the call. “Hello?”

“ _Where’s my daughter_?” Thorin demanded as a leeway from a hello. Aiza wasn’t surprised. If she had any issues with her son dating a reincarnated Dwarf Prince, she’d probably feel the same worry.

“We’re still at school,” Aiza said. “She’s a sweet girl. Strong too. I like her.”

“ _Aiza, if anything—_ ”

“I’m a _mother_ , Thorin. I’d sooner kick an ass than let something happen to your precious little girl. Both of them, for that matter.”

“ _You killed her once_!”

“That was another time, another life, another body, _and_ another upbringing. If Bolt likes Philippa then who am I to judge? How about you meet Bolt and see for yourself how smitten he is with her, hmm? I think your reservations against my child will change if not wash away. Bolt is a good boy.”

“ _I’m sure you thought the same when you were teaching him to fucking murder people as a sport_.”

“It is not my fault that Orcs were a warrior race. If you want an example of who we were really like, the Vikings are the closest example I can give you.”

“ _Everyone was part of a warrior race, Aiza._ ”

“So Hobbits _were_ Warriors?”

“ _Okay, so not everyone_ …”

“Thorin, relax. Phil is a strong girl and I like her. It’s an honor and a pleasure to finally meet her. Someday I hope to meet her sister. Kelly, wasn’t it? I’ll have her call you when we get home, okay? She’ll gush all about how much fun she had tonight with Bolt.”

“ _Aiza…_ ”

“No need to growl, Papa Bear,” Aiza teased. “Enjoy your afternoon, Thorin. Goodbye.”

“ _Aiza wait!_ ”

She hung up and went back to the game. Bolt had advanced to the next round. Good. This will be over quickly. Phil looked impressed, if nothing else. From what Aiza understood she was a fencer and they’d be going to one of her own matches in the following week.

Sounded like fun.

About half an hour later, the game had ended with Bolt acting a bit more smug than usual as Phil congratulated him. Sure, he was a bit smelly and Aiza was going to send him to take a shower before they went to dinner, but for now, she let him have this.

Different times, different circumstances.

How they have changed.

#

“So you are worried about Phil being with this boy?” Gandalf asked, arching a brow.

“Is that so strange?”

“No,” he said, “Absolutely not. In fact, you wouldn’t be the first father to have issues with the idea of your daughter dating. But this relationship is just starting, so saying she’s dating is a stretch. Is she starting to test waters and see which relationship she likes best? Certainly. I know it scares you, but, there is nothing to be scared of.”

Thorin arched a brow at Gandalf. “If I were to say that this boy is Bolton Gunde, who, by the way, was once Bolg the son of Azog, would that change your mind.”

Gandalf hummed. “I’ve come across many reincarnated orcs in my time, Thorin. Some who remembered, some who didn’t. Many of them were very good people who actually told me they were ashamed of the things they did in their past. Does Bolg remember?”

“Azog does, she—yes, she—and I were in the army together. She now runs a club and has a gang. Bolg is still her son. You see why I’d still be worried.”

Gandalf nodded. “There is nothing you can do at the moment. You can have a chat with the boy when you meet him, but Thorin, a word about fathers and daughters: a woman’s future relationships are shaped by the relationship with the man she names her father. The same is said by a man’s relationship with his mother. If this boy and Philippa are interested in each other, that only says something about you and the boy’s mother.”

Thorin leaned back. Phil? Like Aiza? He wasn’t sure how he liked that. Oh, physically they were certainly easy to mistake a mother and daughter. Possibly. The idea made Thorin’s spine crawl unpleasantly. Almost as much as the idea that Aiza’s son was in any way like him.

It made sense. Thorin would admit that, but for the most part…

He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“How about Kelly?” Gandalf said. “How is she handling Philippa’s new relationship and any other change she’s facing?”

“Fairly well, though it was Bolg that killed her in her last life, right?” Gandalf nodded. “She doesn’t trust him. Would you say that that…”

“Yes. I think she’ll be next to remember, what will trigger the gates to open and have her remember, I don’t know. She’ll need to know she has someone to go to about her memories. You should be able to tell. Those who remember have a certain look in their eyes at first.”

“Like their haunted, unsure what’s going on,” Thorin said. “I remember feeling that. I remember seeing it in Aiza’s eyes and also in Dwade’s. In Frodo’s…” He blinked. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to handle seeing that in my baby girl’s.”

“Handle it as you always have. With support, without judgement, and as it is your daughter, she’ll need a hug from her father. As Kili he looked up to you most. You’re relationship with Kili was always more relaxed than it was with Fili and that has not changed much. Kelly is still your baby as much as Kili was, even though he, now she, was not physically your child. You already know what to do. You have ten years of experience with these memories under your belt as well as the PTSD you’ve constantly dealt with alongside them. You’re dealing with far more than your girls will. When Bolg remembers, I am sure his mother will seek your advice on the matter.”

“What?”

“Well, it seems to me that you and Aiza have a bit of a tentative friendship.”

“More a tentative agreement,” Thorin said. “We get along, but just barely. In the army, it’s…I’m gay, she was a woman. We both had to prove ourselves to our straight and male counterparts constantly, so we became friends. We fought together, laughed together. Then we remembered on the same day and for a brief time turned against each other.”

“But you’re not,” Gandalf said. “You are still close. You’re still warriors. You respect each other and your children may very well fall in love with each other. It will not be a Romeo and Juliet scenario, though you fear it will be. From what I gather, Aiza seems to like Philippa, if nothing else.”

Thorin massaged his forehead. “She might. But how am I to accept her son?”

“Time,” he said. “That is all you need. Right now, all you know is that a boy you do not know is interested in your daughter. As a father, you’re going to be suspicious, that is why _meeting_ the boy is the first step to knowing whether or not he is worthy. You’re still Phil’s knight. She’ll look to you even if she falls in love with Bolg or even if she falls in love with another boy. At the moment though, it is still far too early to say that what they feel is love. They’re teenagers. Let them experiment. Let them grow.”

Thorin nodded. He didn’t have to like it, but letting Phil try her own thing was important. He’d give her that much.

But he still wanted to meet Bolton Gunde before anything became more serious than it currently was.


	16. Chapter 16

Will woke to a terrified scream and he sighed.

 _Not again_ , he thought. Frodo’s nightmares were getting worse rather than better and he wondered if he should switch therapists. He so hoped not. He liked Gandalf, Frodo liked him, and there was the added bonus that they often were able to cross paths with Thorin and his daughters. Will entered Frodo’s bedroom and picked him up, hushing him. Frodo clung to him tightly as he looked around, slowly accepting that he was safe.

“Daddy…”

“I’m here, buddy,” Will said, kissing his forehead. “Do you want to talk to me about your dream or do you want to talk to Gandalf?”

Frodo blinked, his ear pressed to Will’s chest. “You,” Frodo decided with such surety that Will grinned. “Gandalf knows all my dreams anyway.”

“I’m sure he does.” Will let him go and tucked him back in. “So, what are your dreams about?”

“Sometimes they’re good,” Frodo said. “And when they’re good there are fireworks and it’s always summertime. We’re at a very peaceful town and there’s always food. Cookies, scones, and lots of pie.”

Will grinned.

“It’s always sunny in this dream. And you’re there with me all the time. One time you had me nail a sign to a gate that said: no admittance except on party business because it was our birthday and everyone was going to be there so you were really, really busy.”

“That does sound like fun.”

“But most of the time you aren’t there and I’m stuck in a very scary place. I keep walking and walking and all I feel is hot and thirsty and hungry and I can’t find water or food or you. All I know is that I can’t go home until I throw a ring in a volcano.”

Will hummed and Frodo continued.

“And even though I know I can do this, it feels like I can’t because I’m always too tired and I can hardly move, but I keep moving because if I don’t, monsters will get me. Monsters who want this ring to give it to a giant flaming eye.”

“Why an eye?”

“It’s not really an eye, it’s an evil king.”

“Oh. I see.”

“He became an eye because a good king cut his finger off and stole the ring I have to destroy because even though the evil king’s body is gone, he didn’t really die.”

Will tapped his chin. This would make an _excellent_ book series if it wasn’t tormenting his child. “Are you always alone in the dreams where I’m not there?”

He shook his head. “I have friends in some, and just one friend in another. It’s usually Samantha, except Samantha’s a boy in my dreams named Samwise.”

“That is an interesting name,” he said. Samantha…wasn’t there a cute little girl Frodo admitted having a little crush on? Was that the same girl? “Does Samantha know she’s in your dreams?”

Frodo shook his head, eyes wide. “That’s creepy isn’t it?”

Ah…yeah. Perhaps it was a little bit. “I suppose it is if you tell her,” he said. “But either way, Frodo, it’s just a dream and you can always wake up from dreams and come get me. A dream is just a dream and I am always going to be here, buddy.”

“Not always. You’re at work when I’m at school.”

“Ah. Yes. Well, wonderful news about that: work is in the kitchen, remember?” Will poked Frodo’s belly and kissed his forehead.

“All right, time to go back to sleep.” He stood and went to the doorway, pausing once to make sure Frodo closed his eyes. Once sure, he closed the door and went back to bed himself.

#

“Did your dad ever kill people?” Faran asked, walking between Tara and Brom.

“He was in the army,” Phil said. “What do you think? Just don’t ask him about it, okay? I don’t want us kicked out because you triggered him or another inpatient.”

“I’m sure no one’s going to get triggered,” Kelly assured them. “And if someone does, the doctors and nurses know what to do.”

“Fair enough,” Lea said, stretching.

Phil turned to look at them and her eyes caught sight of an SUV, silver, parked close by. A man sat inside, watching them. She frowned at it and faced the front again, telling herself that she was being paranoid. No one was following them. Besides, it was close to the hospital. The man might just be getting ready, in a mental way, to visit a relative. That is a far more comforting thought than that she and her sister and their friends were being followed.

Phil led them into Maudsley’s grounds and to the reception area. They greeted Thorin and Bifur in the dayroom and while Bifur took to the group well enough, Phil wondered if this was too much for Thorin, who looked among them with cautious curiosity. He sort of looked like a cornered cat among this large a group. Phil sat beside him. “Was this a bad idea?”

“What? No, no,” he said, embracing her. “It’s good to meet your classmates,” he said. “But they seem a little young…and I thought you went to an all girl’s school.” Phil briefly introduced the others and how she knew them. Thorin nodded and nudged her. “What about kids your own age? Other than Bolt Gunde?”

“Really? You have to say his name like that? I know you don’t really like his mum, Dad, but…”

“I’ll consider being nice to him when I meet him,” Thorin promised. “So, are there any other friends?”

“There’s Archie and Arden. I would say Gimleigh, too, but we’re…yeah. I’d rather not discuss that. It’s long and it’s ugly. Has Will and Frodo come by yet?”

“Family meeting with Gandalf today. Likely Frodo’s playing with toys while he and Will talk. They’ll be out in a couple minutes, I think…” He glanced at the clock. “Yeah. A couple minutes. I don’t know if Will want to introduce so many people to Frodo, though…”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Phil said, the corners of her mouth quirked up in a small, barely noticeable smile. “So, have you and Will started dating—”

“If you don’t want to discuss your boyfriend, I will not discuss mine.”

Phil arched a brow and met Thorin’s glare. “You’re funny, Daddy.” Thorin groaned and put his head in his hands, muttering _why me_ under his breath. Phil smirked and crossed her legs.

“It seems you’ve quite the entourage.” She and Thorin looked at Will. Phil jumped up and relieved Frodo of Will, allowing her father to have a moment with the man he’d been pretending _not_ to be pining over despite knowing that _everyone already knew_ that he was pining.

“Frodo!” Kelly squealed, embracing him next.

Frodo smiled at the others and was welcomed into the game they’d started playing with Bifur.

Brom, however, had become eerily silent sitting next to Frodo. Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he wasn’t used to little kids, but eventually the game continued without any stress or discomfort as Frodo settled himself in Brom’s lap. Phil glanced at Thorin and grinned. Even if he wanted to deny it, she could see the faint flush of his cheeks and the smile he directed at Will. A couple rounds went by before Will stood and cleared his throat.

“Frodo, it’s time to go home.” Frodo pouted and stood, giving everyone hugs. Phil _thought_ she heard Brom say _I’m so sorry_ and Frodo replied with _I forgave you a long time ago_ , but that was impossible.

They couldn’t have known each other before.

Could they?

#

“Sir, I found the sons of Durin.”

“ _Are they sons_?”

The man suppressed a scoff. “No,” he said. “They’re girls.”

“ _That should make it easier for you to take them captive_.”

“Sir, if I do that, Aiza will—”

“ _That bitch can do what she pleases. I want those girls_.”

The man watched them leave with their friends. It left him feeling a little sick, thinking about taking them. He didn’t know what his employer wanted with them, but it was a job and he needed the money. “They aren’t alone,” he said.

“ _You have until this weekend_ ,” his employer said. “ _I think you can manage that. Can’t you_?”

He swallowed, the nausea he felt intensified, and he sucked in a breath.

“Yes, sir.”

“ _Good. When the girls are delivered, you’ll have your money._ ”

“I understand,” he said, closing his eyes and praying to God for forgiveness. “I’ll bring the girls to you posthaste.”

“ _I look forward to it._ ” The call ended and the man dropped the phone, pressing his forehead to the steering wheel.

_I’m sorry. Forgive me for what I have to do._


	17. Chapter 17

Dwade woke to heavy limbs and more heat than he was used to. He opened his eyes to see Oliver lying beside him, still asleep. Dwade supposed he shouldn’t watch, but for now, he remained transfixed. He was a bit spindly limbed, but he was still young. There was time to see what sort of man he’d become. Already he had a future mapped for him, even if he didn’t see it yet. Oxford, library work, the school paper and literary journal…

If that was the sort of future he had back then, Dwade could understand why he didn’t want to hinder him. Now? Well, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let him go. He kissed his forehead and got out of bed, searching for a pair of pants or pajamas to wear before going to make breakfast. He set the table first before pulling out the eggs and bacon, setting them on the counter as he hunted down a frying pan.

 _What am I getting myself into?_ He thought. There was nothing bad about it, but the feeling that he was hindering Oliver’s future was getting more and more…  _Isn’t that what happened last time? I didn’t want to hold him back? I still don’t…_

“Morning,” Oliver greeted, wrapping his arms around Dwade’s waist. “Need help?”

“Nah, I got this.”

“Okay,” Oliver released him and went to the refrigerator. “Have you any orange juice—Oh, never mind.”

Dwade watched him out of the corner of his eye. Oliver had donned one of his shirts, which came down to just above his knees. He sat at the table, checking his phone. Dwade turned back to the food. “Dori call?”

“No. He worries, but he thinks I’m at a friend’s. Not _quite_ a lie.”

“If he knew.”

“I’m eighteen,” Oliver said, as if that was all the explanation he’d need. “I am capable of making my own choices and Darry might not like it, but he knows better than to protest.”

 _He’d probably protest against me anyway_ , Dwade thought, remembering the multitude of fights he had with Dori before. He didn’t think that Dori had an issue with him personally, but as Ori was his baby brother…Perhaps things had been different then. Ori is capable of making his own choices. The question remains whether said questions are the good ones. He really wanted to ask _why me_.  _Why did you chose me? You were young. You’re young now. You don’t need to be tied down to someone who is going to always be that much older than you, so why?_ To add, it wasn’t as if Dwade was old himself. Thirty-five was _not_ old, but it was old enough.

Oliver stepped up and rescued the bacon. “It was starting to burn,” he said. “How are the eggs?”

“Uh…shit.” Once breakfast was rescued and put on the table, Oliver took his hand.

“Are you okay? Was last night—”

“No, it’s not…are you sure about this? Are you sure you want to be with me?”

Oliver blinked. “I’m getting the idea that we’ll be discussing this a lot. Dwade, I know I’m young, but I’m old enough by the law. I’m not rich, I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my life. I have ideas and dreams about where I want my life to go, but I don’t see why you can’t be a part of them. I wanted to spend my life with you before and I didn’t have that. But this is a new life, we’re not who we used to be and I want to have that life still.”

“And Darry?”

“Like I said: he’s my uncle and yeah, he takes care of me and all, but that’s all,” Oliver said. “He’s not as stifling as he used to be.”

“Does he remember?”

Oliver shook his head. “Not yet. I’m sure he will, same as Norris. At least one day.” He bit into a bacon strip. Dwade drummed his fingers against the table.

“Come with me to see Thorin today.”

Oliver paused mid-chew and looked at him.

“He might like to meet you,” Dwade assured him. “Thorin knew about us. He remembers everything.”

“And where is Thorin?”

“Maudsley. PTSD.”

“Memories like his…I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“It’s not _just_ that, but also that he was in the army when he got his memories back. Him and Aiza.”

“I see.”

“You don’t want to see him?”

“It’s not that. It’s just…I never actually was able to forgive him for what he did to Bilbo.” Dwade hummed, leaning back in his seat.

“I can see why that would play a part. Still, no one blames himself for that more than him.”

“You’re certain?”

“I am.”

Oliver hummed, leaning on the table. “Sure,” he said. “Why not? Regardless what I think of him, he’s still my king. Or was. Besides, someone’s got to clock him one for what he did to Bilbo.”

“Well, he clocks himself for it enough.”

“I’ll decide that when I see him.”

#

“Maybe I should meet him,” Bolt said. Phil glanced up. “Your dad, I mean.”

“Are you sure?”

“I get the feeling he’s not going to leave you alone until he does. And you already met my mom.”

Phil grinned. She liked Aiza, even if she was scary. Their meeting was…well…

_“Philippa Durin?” Aiza asked, arching a brow._ _Her hair was pulled out of her face in a half bun and her long nails looked more like claws. She was in a dark green dress and black pumps._ _Phil, donned in her school uniform and her short hair pinned back in a bejeweled hairclip Kelly had made, felt rather underdressed for such a meeting._

_“Yes, Ma’am?” She squeaked._ _Bolt, squeezed her hand in as comforting a manner as he could._

_Aiza pinched her chin. It hurt. “You’re definitely a pretty girl. And I hear you’re a fencer.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“And Thorin’s your father?”_

_“Yes, he adopted me after my parents abandoned me.”_

_“Hmm…you seem a little quaky, but there’s spark in those eyes: a lioness still growing into her majestic self. I like you, little lioness.” She winked and let go of Phil’s chin. “Now, how about we go to dinner after Bolt’s match, hmm? I’d like to get to know you a little more.”_

It’d been weird and yet very satisfying. Aiza, despite being a bit strange in Phil’s eyes, was admirable. She was strong in ways Phil had only imagined. Phil didn’t think she would be able to match that strength, though Aiza seemed to believe she could.

But Bolt meeting her father? Somehow, Phil had the feeling that was going to backfire spectacularly. “You really want to meet him?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you know he and your mom have a bit of history?”

“Well that sort of helped for you, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it could also go very wrong and I don’t want to start a war with my dad if he doesn’t like you,” Phil said, leaning on the table.

“I can take it,” Bolt said, taking her hand in his.

“God, you two are in competition with Archie and Arden, aren’t you?”

Phil glared at Gimleigh, who glared back. “At least I have a boyfriend.”

“Who said I’d want a boy? Whoever told you that lied.”

Bolt released her hand and jumped up. “I just remembered I have to meet with the history teacher about a makeup test—you’re not going to let me go, are you?”

Phil arched a brow and he sat back down. Phil looked at Gimleigh again. “Either way, you could have just left us alone. What have I done to you anyway?”

“Hey!” Archie shouted, seizing Gimleigh’s shoulders. “How about you let them alone, Gimleigh. I need to talk to you about something.”

“But—”

“ _Gim_.”

“Now.” Archie mouthed _sorry_ at them and shoved Gimleigh to another table.

Phil ground her teeth. “One of these days, I _swear to God_ …”

“Acting on whatever you want to do to her will likely only backfire. Phenomenally,” Bolt assured her. “Gimleigh’s likely just jealous of you. Or she likes you, if she is a lesbian.”

“Well, making me angry isn’t going to win her any favors.”

“True.”

“So, you want to meet my dad still?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have practice after school?”

“No.”

“Me neither. We’ll go together today if you’re mum’s okay with it.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind. Likely she’ll join us just to make faces at your dad. Their relationship is…it’s weird. They’re friends who are not friends and you never really know which they are.”

Phil nodded. That sounded about right. She sucked in a breath and released it, hoping beyond hope that the imminent meeting between Bolt and Thorin would not backfire on her in any way. And she hoped Kelly didn’t do any little sister thing.

 _Actually_ , Phil thought, glancing at her sister. _She is likely to do the little sister thing whether I like it or not._


	18. Chapter 18

Bifur grinned and signed _checkmate_. Thorin stared at the board and massaged his head. How did he keep losing to Bifur?

“Another round—”

“Thorin, Bill,” a nurse said, patting his shoulder. “You have visitors.”

Thorin looked at him. “This isn’t over,” he said. Bifur snickered and they went over to greet said visitors. Bifur went over to a young man in a leather jacket, whom Thorin noticed was Bofur. It had to be Bofur, right? It was the same bright grin and the mischievous gleam in his eyes…

“Thorin.”

He turned away from Bifur and Bofur and approached Dwade. “I didn’t think you’d be coming down again so soon.”

“It’s been a couple weeks.”

“Exactly why I said soon,” Thorin said. He looked at the youth beside him and arched a brow. “Ori?” He nodded. “So you remember?”

“I do.”

“You and Norris…”

“We’re twins and as far as I know, he hasn’t remembered yet,” he said. “My name is Oliver in this life.” Dwade wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. Thorin grinned.

“Well, about time! I’ve only been waiting only God knows how long.”

“No you weren’t,” Dwade snapped. Thorin shrugged, leaning back in his seat and kept an eye out for Will. Dwade cleared his throat. “Waiting for someone?”

“Will and Frodo should be here soon…”

“Spend an aweful lot of time here, don’t they?”

“Frodo’s nightmares…and, well, I’m not yet allowed to leave grounds, so…” he blushed.

“Will? Is that Bilbo?” Ori asked, a grin spreading on his face.

“He is. Frodo’s his son.”

“Son?”

“Adopted.”

“Well that must work for you.”

“I’m an almost middle aged veteran in a mental institution with PTSD and memories of my past life. My nephews are now my daughters, one of them is dating my enemy’s son. Or will be very soon.”

“What?” Dwade asked.

“Yep.”

“Who?”

“Phil. With Aiza’s lad.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Does Bilbo remember?” Oliver asked.

“Nope,” Thorin said. “There are moments where I’m sure he’ll remember and then he doesn’t, which is good. If he remembered, I’m terrified he’ll remember… _that_ day.”

“That day?” Oliver deadpanned. “You mean the day you tried to throw him over a ledge.” Thorin winced and met Oliver’s stare.

“I’m not proud of what I did, but I am trying to make it up to him as best I can,” he said. “I know you were close to him. You and Bofur,” he motioned toward Bifur and Bofur. Oliver looked at them for a moment, but it was so brief Thorin almost passed it as his imagination. “You have every right to be angry at me. I’m angry at me. I don’t want to hurt him again and I’m terrified that I will. I’m terrified of what will happen when he remembers.”

He spotted Phil coming over, holding hands with a boy he did not recognize at first till he had a better view. He’d only seen Bolg briefly once, while escaping Mirkwood. And what he saw had disgusted him then. In this life, he wasn’t as mutilated, nor abhorrent. He was actually a handsome lad in his own way, burly, tall, a little awkward…

He stood. “Excuse me,” he said before approaching.

Knowing Dwade, he was watching. Oliver likely was as well.

“Phil,” he said.

She grinned. “Hey, Dad,” she said. Aiza’s lad—what was his name again? She didn’t really change it much, did she? Right! Bolt or something like that—stiffened next to her and he let go of her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Leave it to Aiza to make sure her lad was polite, if nothing else. Thorin took the outstretched hand and shook it. Aside from the nagging thoughts of _there’s an Orc holding my child’s hand_ , Thorin couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. No need for the boy to know that, though.

“This is Phil’s boyfriend?” Dwade asked and Bolt froze up even more. Phil blushed madly and hid her face in her hands. “I was expecting someone older from what Norris had been telling me.”

“Yeah, same.”

“God! Dad! Uncle Dwade! Lighten up!” Phil pleaded.

“I thought I was just meeting your dad,” Bolt said.

“You were just supposed to meet my dad,” Phil assured him, taking his hand again. “I didn’t know Dwade would be here. He’s my former foster-dad’s brother. He and Dad have been friends for nearly as long as I’d been living there.”

“Oh.”

“Still, meeting your mom was easier.”

“Yeah, she liked you,” Bolt said. Thorin and Dwade looked at each other. This was not normal. They should not like each other at all! “Maybe this was too soon,” he said. “But, Mr. Durin, I would like permission to date Phil.” Oh, he was a brave one all right. Thorin crossed his arms and glanced at Dwade, who arched a brow. He looked at the pair again. Phil’s gaze was pleading and Bolt’s solid, unbreakable.

 _Neither of them remember_ , he reminded himself. _I do not think they would even consider this if they did. And I’m still shocked that Aiza approved of this…whatever it is. Well, he’s not an Orc anymore. I can take comfort from_ that _._

“For now, I don’t have any issues with you dating my daughter,” he said. Watching them melt in relief was entertaining at least. “But I don’t want her getting involved in your mother’s business. Is that clear.”

“Yes, Sir,” Bolt said, grinning at him. Phil embraced him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Thorin said. “I still need time to get used to the idea of you dating in general. And there will be rules, understood: first of all, neither of you are to go on dates unattended.”

“Dad—”

“You’re both thirteen. Do either of you drive? Have money? I doubt it. I can’t go, so consider that your break. But Gran and Aiza are there. I want one of them, or at least one of Aiza’s lackeys, or even Dwade, with you if you go on a date.”

“But—”

“Actually that’s pretty fair,” Bolt said before whispering in her ear. Phil crossed her arms and pouted, but nodded.

“Fine. We’ll have a chaperone, but _only_ because of your enemies and Aiza’s.”

“Whatever helps you accept it, princess,” Thorin said, patting her head. Phil glared at him for doing that. No matter how old she got, Thorin was likely to always pat her head and muse up her hair.

“No shovel talk?” Dwade asked.

“I don’t need to,” Thorin said, squeezing his shoulder. “You’re a living, breathing, talking, walking shovel talk all on your own.” Phil and Bolt snorted. “How about, instead, you two get something to drink at the café. I’ll finish up here and maybe when you two get back, Dwade and Oliver will be gone. So we can talk more. Uninterrupted.”

“You’re an arse,” Dwade said as soon as Phil and Bolt left the dayroom. “You’re not telling me you like the kid!”

“No. _God_ no. Whether he remembers, he was Bolg son of Azog. As I’ve said, I don’t want them alone together. I might not like Aiza, but she’s already chaperoned once and nothing bad happened.” They joined Oliver, who shook hands with Bofur, and returned to the table. “I do not know what they will do, but I do know that, Orc or not, Bolt is around a lot of danger and that worries me. I know Aiza will protect them, but I need more than just her keeping an eye on my daughters.”

“Hey, you don’t have to ask us twice,” Oliver said. “Norris either.”

“I’d rather Norris not—”

“Nori was Fili’s guard. Remember? Didn’t you…no, never mind, that was Dis. She got him out of prison once and told him she’d pay him to protect her sons because you and Dwade usually weren’t around and they always liked getting away from you. Nori could keep up. He cares for the two of them as if they were our brothers too. Easier to keep up, more fun, less fussy. That might have carried over.”

“Nori was a private guard for my nephews?”

“Yes.”

“But he still stole.”

“Kleptomania’s a bitch,” Oliver said, shrugging.

“Well, if he remembers, I’ll feel better about him wanting to be in a blasted relationship with her.”

“Yeah, he assures me it’s not sexual but it’s still bothering.”

“Sorry about him.”

“Don’t apologize for him,” Dwade said. “Your brother needs help. He simply refuses to get it.” Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. “What?”

“I’m not ready for this. Why do they have to grow up?”

“That’s not something I think they can help,” Oliver said. “Is that Bilbo?!”

Thorin looked up and grinned as Will walked in with a sleeping Frodo. He stood and approached them. “Long day?” he asked, relieving him of Frodo.

“You’ve no idea,” Will said. “He’d been having nightmares all night and refused to sleep. Kept me up all night with him. At least he’s sleeping now, right?”

“I suppose. Won’t that interfere with his appointment?”

“Hopefully not,” Will said, stretching. “And how about you?”

“Other than finally meeting the boy my daughter’s been dating, it’s not been too bad.”

“Dating?! Wow. Phil?”

“Yes.”

“Well, she is a teenager now.”

“Thirteen. Most fathers don’t even _want_ their daughters dating till their eighteen. Do you think I’m being too lenient?”

“No. The boy was willing to meet you, right? And his own parents?”

“His mother’s a friend from the army.”

“Well, then you know a bit about his background already, then! I’m sure it could be worse. It could be a boy you know nothing about.”

Thorin blinked, thinking on it. “That is worse,” he agreed. “Will, this is my friend, Dwade and his…partner?”

“Maybe,” Oliver said, reaching out to shake Will’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Aren’t you a publisher?”

“I am!”

“I thought so! Bag End Publishing, right? I’ve been hoping to intern there this summer!”

“Wonderful,” Will said. “I’m afraid there isn’t much for us to offer you, though…You’ll have an easier time interning at larger companies.”

Dwade and Thorin exchanged looks and moved away to let Oliver and Will talk. “So this is Frodo,” he said, looking down at the sleeping tot. “Cute.”

“He is.”

“He shouldn’t remember.”

“No,” Thorin agreed. “He shouldn’t, but there’s nothing to be done about it,” he sighed. “If only there was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a boring chapter full of stuff happening...


	19. Chapter 19

_“I will not hide behind stone walls while our friends and kin go out to die for us!” Kelly shouted—but her voice…there was something very off about it. It was hers. She knew it was hers, but it was better suited for a grown man. “It’s not in my blood, Thorin.”_

_“No,” Thorin said, taking her shoulder. “It is not. We are sons of Durin and Durin’s Folk never run from a fight.”_

“Kelly?”

She woke, blinking at Phil. “Time to get up?”

“Yeah. Gran’s making breakfast. Shower’s open, so go on.”

“Why are you up early?” she asked. School wasn’t for a while yet and Phil was already in uniform, her face was lightly done with makeup. Some gloss, a little eyeshadow and mascara. Her hair was pulled out of her face by a black, scrunched satin headband. She was wearing the school’s pleated and plaid blue and grey skirt.

Phil hated skirts.

“I’m having breakfast with Bolt and Aiza,” she said, tugging at her uniform jacket (navy)

“Phil!” Gran shouted.

A faint blush lit her face. “See you at school, Kelly,” she said, leaving the room and skipping down the stairs.

Kelly got out of bed and went to the window to watch her leave, hand in hand with Bolt. Bolt looked up and grinned. It was a kind smile, an honest one, an assuring one—but despite that, she hated him. She didn’t have a reason to hate him, so she kept quiet since he made Phil happy, but it was like she was waiting for him to hurt her.

She wouldn’t stand it if he hurt her. Kelly went to take a shower and dress. Once she had donned her uniform and dried her hair, putting her favorite beany on in just the right way so that her face could be seen, but also so that she could have a little bit of herself. She smiled. No makeup, no skirts, and no femininity beyond what she was willing to display. Much like how Phil usually was.

Or rather how she used to be before Bolt.

Kelly sighed and went downstairs. Gran arched a brow at her. “You’re still insisting on wearing that hat?” she asked.

Kelly nodded. “I like it, Gran.”

“But you have such beautiful hair, love.”

“I know,” she sighed, sitting down at the table. “Where’d Phil go with Bolt?”

“I think they’re having a breakfast date. Chaperoned, of course, as your dad wants. Though I’m not sure what to think of that boy’s mother. He seems polite enough, but there’s something about _her_ that I don’t quite like…”

“But you like him?”

“Do you not?”

“No. He hasn’t given me a reason to, I just…I don’t know _why_ I don’t like him. I just don’t.”

“You’re sister’s growing up and spending more time with him,” Gran said. “That’s all there is to it. When you start dating, you’ll see.”

Kelly wasn’t so sure. It felt like it went beyond that. Like she felt that Bolt was dangerous and that something bad would happen to Phil if she stayed with him. She rationalized that that was more because of who Aiza was than Bolt. Right? Aiza was a gangster. Wasn’t she? Wasn’t that what made her edgy around Bolt, what made most people afraid to get close until Phil did it.

Well, when one saw it like that, perhaps it was normal to fall in love with someone. But even if he did, why did Phil fall in love with him too?!

Why did she have to fall in love with him too?

#

She saw them come to school hand in hand and wrinkled her nose in disgust when Bolt kissed her cheek before they went their separate ways. Kelly sighed and went to her class.

“Are you okay?” Lea asked.

“Not really,” Kelly said, telling her about Phil’s morning date.

“I think you’re overreacting,” Tara said, slipping in her seat behind Kelly. “I think you’re just jealous of him because you and Phil used to spend time together all the time and now she’s spending it with him instead. Right? That’s jealousy. You could join them, but that would just annoy Phil and make her angry with you.”

“You could spend time with us more often if you like,” Lea offered. “I know it wouldn’t be the same, but at least you won’t feel so lonely when Phil’s with Bolt.”

Kelly smiled at the twins gratefully. “I’d like that,” she said.

Despite having spent the morning together, Phil and Bolt were together again at lunch, being as sickeningly cute as before and Kelly insisted on sitting in a way that she didn’t have to see it. Her stomach roiled and she rubbed her hand over it.

 _It shouldn’t make me sick_ , she thought. _It shouldn’t make me sick. I should be happy for Phil_.

“I think I’m going to go see my dad after school.”

“Alone?” Tara asked.

“What about club?” Lea added.

“I’m not feeling well,” she said, standing. Archie stood and led her to the girl’s room where Kelly locked herself in a stall and wept.

“This isn’t just jealousy, isn’t it?” Archie asked. “Did Bolt hurt you? Is he hurting Phil?”

“No,” Kelly whimpered. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. I just…I can’t explain it, but I don’t like him. He scares me and I don’t know why.”

“And you wanted your Dad to tell him no to dating Phil.”

“Yeah.”

“Hence why you want to talk to him.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And yet, because he’s not done anything to you or Phil that’s hurtful—aside from wanting to date her—you know you have no reason to hate him and seeing them together makes you angry enough that you’re feeling sick.”

“I think so.”

“You know, I’ve known Arden my whole life and I’ve had a crush on him for as long as I can remember. He used to play with me when I was being babysat by his sisters. When I realized I was trans, he was the only one who accepted me and told me it was okay, that there was nothing wrong with me and that when I was able to, I could afford it. But for the most part, I’ve suffered a lot of hate and abuse for wanting to be myself. I can’t imagine the things Bolt puts up with here at school because of his mother’s criminal background. So, to be fair, you aren’t wrong to be scared for your sister or yourself. And I don’t think Phil expected to fall in love with him, if it is love. They might break up in a few days or weeks and keep being friends.”

“But you and Arden are different from Phil and Bolt.”

“Yes, we are. Every relationship is unique in its own way. It’s okay to be jealous, it’s okay to be scared. Just remember that he makes your sister happy. That’s what matters here. You’re not losing her, even if it feels like you are. Rather, I’d ask her if it would be okay to get to know Bolt, get used to him being around. I’m sure neither of them would mind.”

“But I don’t want to get to know him!” Kelly said.

_He brought the pike down, slamming it into her heart—_

Kelly retched. Where did that come from?!

“Kelly?” Archie knocked on the door. “Kelly, what’s wrong? Feeling okay?”

“No,” she said, flushing the toilet and wiping her mouth with toilet paper.

“I’m getting the nurse,” Archie said. “Can you hold on for a couple minutes?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. I’ll be back soon.” Kelly heard her leave, the door banging shut behind Archie and Kelly focused on breathing, hoping that that would be enough to help her stomach settle. It did, thankfully.

The nurse and Archie helped her to the office before Archie was sent back to class with a note while the nurse examined her. She was clear, having had a bout of nausea or something, but it didn’t stop the nurse from calling Gran once Kelly was in the office.

As she waited, she heard a thumping from behind the curtain. Kelly stood and approached the curtain. The nurse laid on the floor and Kelly ran to her side, trying to wake her.

That was when a cloth covered her face and she tried to scream, thrashing.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

#

_“Uncle! Look what I caught!”_

_She held up the rabbit, grinning brightly. “Is this enough?” Thorin knelt, grinning at her._

_“For all of us? No, my lad, but it’d make a good snack. Dinner, however, needs to be something bigger and can last longer. Like that,” he pointed at something between the trees and Kelly looked over her shoulder to see a stag grazing._

_“Can I shoot it?”_

_Thorin hesitated for a moment before nodding and he helped her aim. She took a deep breath and when Thorin said, she let the arrow fly. It slammed into the stag’s neck and it fell. Thorin aimed his own bow, and it flew into the stag’s heart, killing it instantly._

_“I didn’t kill it.”_

_“But your aim was true, when you’re able to hold a bigger bow and string longer arrows, you should be able to kill one.” He ruffled her hair. “You did well, Kili…”_

_She jumped out of her barrel, dodging the battling Elves and Orcs to get at the lever and open the gates blocking them in. an arrow shaft embedded in her leg and she fell._

_“KILI!” Phil screamed. Kelly seized the lever and pulled before jumping back in her barrel first chance. The arrow broke and she screamed. By Mahal it hurt!_

_From there, they fought to get out, but she felt ill and weak._

_She hated feeling weak…_

_She got that she was dying. Everything was on fire and she couldn’t move._

_“Hold him down,” Tara said, pressing something cold and stinging into her leg…_

“Just the one?”

“I need more time to get the other girl.”

“No, she will do just fine.”

“Yes, Mr. Grag—what exactly are you going to do to her?”

“You needn’t worry, Bary,” Mr. Grag said. “I have no intention of hurting the girls, what use would I have in hurting the princesses? In fact, I think this will be enough.”

Kelly still couldn’t see and she guessed she was wearing a bag over her head. She heard a man—she guessed Mr. Grag—approach her and the bag was removed. He was tall and pale, with cruel eyes and his hair was slicked back. But looking at him, she knew. She knew and he knew. She knew that he knew just by how he looked at her.

“Hello, Prince Kili. Or would you rather be addressed ‘princess’ now.”

“I know who you are,” Kelly said. “You’re Smaug.” She glanced at the other man. “And you’re Bard.”

“Kili, I am sorry—”

“A princess who remembers, that is exponentially more valuable to me,” Mr. Grag said. “Bary, you’ll get full payment and we never have to speak again.”

Bary left.

“I hope there’s a good reason you’re doing this!” Kelly shot at him.

“There is,” he said. “And I am very sorry, Kili.”

“Coward!” she shrieked as Bary walked away. Mr. Grag tisked at her, pinching her chin.

“You’re not going to be hurt. You’re just a bargaining chip. Once I get what I want from your father, you can go home.” Kelly spat on him, hitting his eye. Mr. Grag growled, and stood, wiping spit off his face and smirking. “You are a strong, little princess. Thorin must be very proud.”

“I’ll get out of here,” Kelly sneered. “See if I don’t!”

“Sweetie, you’re a ten year old girl.”

“Being a girl is exactly why I’m going to kick your arse,” she snapped. “I remember now! You think just because I’m a kid that means that everything I was taught back then is meaningless now?”

“You’re weaker, child.”

“I was a Dwarf, I’m pretty sure being smaller gives me an advantage.” He wasn’t threatened. More amused at her threats, as if it was funny to watch, as if she was nothing more than a hissing, declawed cat or a barking puppy tied to a leash.

“If you need to use the bathroom, just say so. And if you behave yourself, you might be able to get out of this room. I might let you walk around the place with an escort.” With that, he left and Kelly leaned back against the chair, looking around.

Aside from the strange memories she now had (which, by the way, were very cool aside from being killed by Bolt), she felt it could be worse.

* * *

School Uniform for the girls:

http://www.idealuniform.com/images/gallery_huge/132_3-29-2012-11-47-22.jpg - skirt

http://s7.landsend.com/is/image/LandsEnd/403656_A611_LF_CLN?fmt=jpeg,rgb&qlt=80,1&op_sharpen=0&resMode=sharp2&op_usm=0.5,1,3,0&icc=sRGB%20IEC61966-2.1,relative&iccEmbed=1&rgn=0,0,2000,3000&scl=5.882352941176471&id=onyuc0 - trousers

http://saxonuniform.com/tux/blazers/blazer%20colors/schooluniformblazers.jpeg - blazer

http://i01.i.aliimg.com/photo/v0/120327283/Girl_s_Long_Sleeve_Peter_Pan_Collar.jpg - blouse

http://footwearsouls.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/black-school-shoes-for-girlsjosmo-girls-black-shoe-school-kits-wetdcpun.gif - shoes (need only be black, but these are specifically Kelly's)


	20. Chapter 20

When the police arrived in the middle of Thorin’s session with Gandalf, his first instinct was to run—not on anyone’s fault. Recognizing the two officers as orcs, grunts as far as he can tell, sort of got him a little edgy. Gandalf was furious at the interruption, but as soon as “kidnapping” and “Kelly” came up, Thorin stood and crossed his arms, approaching them.

“What do you mean kidnapping?” he asked. “What happened to my daughter?”

They told him what they knew so far:

Kelly had been feeling ill and went to the nurse’s office. The nurse left to contact her grandmother and when she came back, the window was open and Kelly was missing. Her bag remained and no student would sneak out without their belongings. Thorin sat down, legs feeling like they’d turn to jelly.

“I was here,” he said. “There’s cameras everywhere and a day room full of patients. And the nurses, too,” he said.

“We aren’t accusing you of kidnapping.”

“But you have to cover all bases,” Thorin said. The officers exchanged a glance. It was true. They’d have to. “And as for anyone who might want to hurt my child…I don’t know. Is anyone checking in with the school?”

“There are,” one said. “We’re doing all we can to find Kelly.”

Thorin massaged his forehead. “Her sister’s boyfriend’s mother is Aiza Gunde. She might be able to provide more answers than I would.”

“Perhaps, but if her son is dating your elder daughter, then would she really have anything to gain from it?” Thorin shook his head.

“No, but Aiza does have her own enemies. She might be able to give names. After that, I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Durin.”

“Just find my daughter.”

Once they left, Gandalf approached him. “Thorin, take some breaths. Breathe and count with me. One…”

Thorin shook his head and leaned forward, hiding his face between his knees and wept.

#

There were good memories, okay memories, and bad memories. Kelly focused on all of them, it was easy given the time she had and she just _knew_ something in them would help her eventually. Most of them were of her with Phil—Fili then—and her dad—who used to be her uncle, but stepped into the role of father anyway.

In that life, Thorin taught Kili how to hunt and how to fight. He told them stories of Erebor, but when they had gone there, all she saw was a ruin and while the gold captivated her, she was just as scared of Thorin as Phil had been.

And who could said they were wrong to be afraid? Especially when he tried to kill Bilbo? Why _did_ he try to kill Bilbo? He loved him, didn’t he?

And then the memories of what had happened that day came back. Bilbo’s confession…everything. The thing was, Kelly remembered never being disappointed in who she was. She was a son of Durin, an heir to the throne of Erebor, even if she’d never actually see it. She didn’t mind that. But that day, she wished she were anything else. She wished she did not share blood with Thorin.

Well, she wasn’t his blood relative now anyway. They didn’t have the same genetics.

 _Family doesn’t end with blood_ , she reminded herself.

“Hungry?” Kelly opened her eyes and looked at Grag. “It’s about dinner time, I figured you’d like to eat.”

“And I should trust anything you give me…why?” she asked. A pair of guards set up a table and placed food on top of it. It was a McDonald’s fare. Her hands were untied and the guards left.

“Believe it or not, I have better use for you alive, princess,” Grag said. “I have no reason to poison you. Nor reason to hurt you. And so far, given all your talk on escaping, you’ve been surprisingly well behaved.”

“I’ve been busy remembering. It’s like watching a movie.”

Grag smirked. “You’re smarter than people give you credit for. Both in this life and the last.”

“And you’re still a lizard,” Kelly said, grabbing a cheeseburger.

“What I mean is, most try to resist the memories. Some of them take years to remember everything. You seem rather accepting of what happened to you in the past.”

“I don’t really see anything not to accept or resent. Sure, some of it’s bad, but that’s normal. But you know what? At least I wasn’t an animal. At least I didn’t destroy a whole nation and cast them out. What you did to my family was horrible. I might not be able to kick your ass and I accept that. But my Dad can and he will when he finds me.”

With that, Kelly bit her cheeseburger with an air of finality. Grag leaned forward. “Kid, your _dad_ is in a mental hospital because he couldn’t handle the truth. It is also why he lived on the streets and abandoned the army. He couldn’t handle it. So he gave up. But you, Kelly Durin, aren’t even an adult yet and you are your memories better than anyone else who remembers.”

“My Dad isn’t weak,” Kelly said. “You know nothing about him. Most of the reasons behind who he was and is stems from the things you did to him and his people. I remembered most of it and I remember that despite my dad’s failings in that life, he got through it. He has PTSD, and likely had it back then too. And that with these memories, I’m surprised they didn’t send him to some high security mental hospital or something.”

She set her burger down and grabbed a box of chips. “He’s always been hard on himself, trying to do his best and always thinking he fell short of it all. We always told him he was one of the best and he was loved, but you know what? He never believed it. As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t real. And you know where all his doubt stems from? You taking Erebor.”

“I’m sure it stems further than that.”

“Maybe. But what I see is that, even if it does, the sacking of Erebor is what led to my dad to be the Dwarf he was then. But as much hardship as that put on all of us then, he at least found love in the end.”

Grag arched a brow. “Love? You mean the Hobbit? Do you even know who the Hobbit is? Who his son is? You think that boy is innocent?”

“He’s three.”

“And he remembers. What does that tell you?”

“That having another kid around who remembers is going to make him feel a little saner, I bet. Frodo’s cute and he’s a good kid. Whatever it is he did in his past life doesn’t matter to me. As far as I’m concerned, he’s my little brother. That’s all I need to know.”

Grag smirked and stood.

“You’re a brave little girl. As brave as you were when you were Kili son of Víli, a prince of Durin’s Folk. But you’re still a little girl. Finish your meal and don’t hesitate to request leave to the bathroom.”

He left. Kelly took another bite out of her cheeseburger and looked at the camera, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue, showing off her half-chewed bite.

#

Aiza was good at hiding what was going on inside her mind. She was always hiding who she was. It was usually necessary in her line of work. Always had been.

She took pride in who she was and is. She didn’t get along with Thorin most days. They tolerated each other at best. And for the sake of their children, they were attempting to get along better, like how they were before they remembered.

So hearing that someone had kidnapped Kelly Durin didn’t just get Aiza’s attention. It buried under her skin and clawed at her, festering her anger and building on it. When the fuzz came to her door asking her if she knew anything about this, Aiza could hear Thorin’s plea behind the questioning.

_I need your help. Find my daughter._

And Aiza would answer.

She was interested in what sort of person Kelly was. Her sister was a lioness, through and through, though still a cub for now. What sort of person could the younger daughter be?

Well, she’d know soon enough.

Aiza approached Grag’s estate, her arms crossed and a gun in her bag with two guards behind her. One of Grag’s men let them in and she approached the dragon’s layer.

Grag met her in the foyer with a smile and he embraced her, kissing her cheek. “It’s good to see you, Aiza. Did you change your mind?”

“No,” she said. “I did not. I’m here for the girl.”

“Girl?”

“Kelly Durin. Where is she?”

“Well, you’re very astute. I promise, she’s safe and well cared for.”

“Smaug,” Aiza said. “I want her free in ten minutes.”

Grag sighed. “Aiza, you’re an Orc.”

“ _Was_ an Orc,” she corrected. “But stealing the princess still makes you a dragon, but in this case it’s much worse.”

Grag glared at her. “No harm came to her. She remembers and surprisingly is taking better than you did.” When she remembered, Aiza felt like everything she fought for had fallen apart. She was as bad as Thorin was at telling one memory from the next. Hence her soul-searching journey to reconcile what she had been with who she is now.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Aiza said.

Grag arched a brow at Aiza and smirked. “All right,” he said. “I’ll take you to her. Then we can talk.”

Aiza doubted it. She wasn’t making deals. She’d find the girl, be assured she was all right, then she’d bust her out and take her home.

She was led to a security room and peered at the screen. Kelly was a pretty girl. Her dark hair was loose save for the beany covering her head. She was still in her school uniform and her hands were unbound as she paced her room.

“She originally was tied to the chair, but after dinner, I didn’t see much reason to keep her tied down,” Grag said. “She’s a smart girl. Looks all right to me, doesn’t she to you?”

“I want to see her in person.”

“That I can’t do. In a bit, we’ll be moving her to a bedroom for the night. No harm comes to her. Now if you bring me her father, we can discuss her release.”

Aiza ground her teeth and turned to Grag.

“How about this: you tell me what you’re up to. First you’re talking about retaliating against the Ring Bearer—who, by the way, is in pre-school—you kidnap Thorin’s younger daughter and trigger her memories, and now you want me to deliver Thorin to you. I have to say, a lot of it doesn’t make sense.”

Grag pulled a chair out for her. “I don’t want to hurt the boy. I want to raise him, turn him against what he stood for all those years ago. I want to make him a force London will bow to without a thought.”

“You want to make him Sauron?”

“No, I want to make a king. He’s a kid, why destroy him when I can shape him, make him great.”

“I see. And you want Thorin. Why?”

“That’s more personal. A different plan entirely.”

Aiza nodded and sucked in a breath. “You’re insane.” She pulled her gun out aimed the barrel, finger squeezing the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm...I don't even know what just happened...


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know i'm usually dialogue heavy, but this is still pretty heavy...

Kelly paused in her pacing, standing her ground as the door creaked open.

“Kelly Durin?” A blonde woman inquired, stepping inside.

“Yeah?”

“My name is Aiza. I’m a friend of your dad’s.”

“I know who you are,” Kelly said. “You killed my dad and my sister. She would have been my brother then.” Aiza visibly inhaled and exhaled.

“I’m not proud of what I did in my past.”

“Then you know that your son killed me?”

“I did not. Bolt doesn’t remember. I don’t know if he will, but I know he is infatuated with your sister.” Aiza took one of the seats and sat down. “Your dad asked me to find you. In his own way. I’ll take you home.”

“Shouldn’t I go to the police, make a statement or something?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a gangster and I just offed a Mafioso to save you. This is going to launch a gang war at the worse. The only way I can think of how to deescalate it is to have you lie to the police about how you got out. Can you name the man he hired to take you from school?”

She nodded. “It was Bard. He’s in a desperate situation, I think. No other reason behind it.”

Aiza nodded. “My men will handle it. If you must, you tell the police you didn’t see your kidnapper. You tell them you managed to get out on your own through there,” she pointed at a metal frame over an insulation vent.

“Okay,” Kelly said. “But what about Smaug?”

“Dead,” Aiza said. “Why else would there be a gang war on the rise? He wanted you to get back at your dad and possibly use you both to get to Frodo Baggins. He _wanted_ to make him the new Dark Lord. Or something along those lines.”

“Killing him wasn’t the answer.”

“Perhaps not, but if I let him live, he’d just do this again. Would you prefer that?”

Kelly shook her head.

Aiza nodded. “I didn’t think so.” She stood. “Come on, we better get you home.”

Kelly huffed and followed her out. “I probably could’ve gotten out on my own.”

“Well, gladly we won’t have to find out.”

#

When Kelly was returned, Thorin did the only logical thing he could think to do. He ran and embraced her despite how much his body shook from relief and rage. He looked at Aiza.

“The kidnapper?”

“Better if you don’t know,” she said.

Thorin accepted that. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” She said. “I can’t say it’s over yet, though. We need to talk, Thorin.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Today. It can’t wait.”

He stared at Aiza for a moment before letting Kelly go. “You’re sister’s inside with Grandma. Go on in. I’ll catch up later.”

“Okay, Dad,” she said. She paused. “I remember.” Thorin looked at her and she gave him an assuring grin. “I’m fine, Dad. I just need to know whether or not Phil or Gran do.”

“They don’t.”

“Okay. In which case, I’ll try _not_ to call Gran ‘Mom’.”

With that, she went inside and Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.”

“It gets worse,” Aiza said. “Bard is the kidnapper. Smaug hired him. Seems he was desperate or some shit. I don’t know if he remembers, but Smaug’s dead and now I need to go after him. It could backlash. You need to warn your crew and I’ll get mine ready for any retaliation that may come along.”

Thorin nodded. “Did you find out why he did it? Why Smaug took my daughter.”

“My understanding of it is that he meant to hurt you through her. And he wanted a kid named Frodo Baggins. You know him?”

“I do,” Thorin said darkly.

“He wanted to make him the next Sauron. Turn him away from what he was before.”

“The Ring Bearer? Frodo’s three.”

“Which is why Smaug wanted to make him the next dark lord,” Aiza said. “He figured he had enough time to corrupt him if he got the kid soon enough…I’ll do what I can to protect our children.”

Thorin nodded. “Same,” he said. “Aiza, thank you for bringing her home. Did he hurt her?”

“No. Aside from that she remembers being Kili, prince of Durin’s folk, nothing bad happened to her.”

“Good.”

“When this is over, I want to meet this kid. The Ring Bearer.”

“He might be scared of you.”

“Would he care if he saw you with me? As friends?”

“We aren’t friends.”

“We are. Not conventional friends, true, but we are friends, Thorin. We aren’t on opposing sides anymore, no matter what you think. We’ve been through too much shit together to let our past lives get in the way of who we are now. I know it takes some…work to get past it, but we can. We can get past it. And we will succeed.”

Thorin shrugged. “Now what?”

“You get out of Maudsley,” she said. “Get a job, get your man. Me: I’m going to make sure our babies are happy, whether they remember or not.”

“And if they do?”

“Well, I hope Phil and Bolt can work past it. It’ll take time, true, but they can get past it if we can.”

“We’ll see,” Thorin said. “Thank you, again, for bringing her home. I don’t know how to begin repaying you.”

“Neither do I,” Aiza said. “I’ll start a tab.”

Thorin scoffed and she left. With that, he went inside to find Kelly looking like a rather disgruntled and confused cat as Desiree and Phil still had her locked in an embrace. “But I’m _fine_!” she moaned. “Dad, help!”

“Mum, how about giving her a little breathing room,” he said.

“After what happened?!”

Thorin sighed, “Mum…she’s fine.”

“And annoyingly chipper,” Kelly added, smirking. Thorin furrowed his brow, where did she…

Right.

She remembers.

Fucking A!

_How am I supposed to deal with this? I expected more anger and crying when she remembered! I don’t know how to handle her being this bloody sassy!_

_What if Bilbo remembers and he’s sassy…that’d be too much!_

“You okay, Dad?” Kelly asked.

“Yes. I’m fine. Mum, really, let go before she starts turning blue.”

#

“Hi, Gandalf,” Kelly said when Gandalf entered.

Trauma counseling, it seemed, was something Kelly couldn’t get out of. Thankfully, it was Gandalf who showed. Gandalf sat down across from her.

“Good afternoon, Kelly. Or may I say Kili?”

Kelly grinned. “I’m not Kili here, just Kelly.”

“Some prefer their old name.”

“Like Dad? Nah. I’m fine with Kelly.”

“All right,” Gandalf said. “How are you handling your memories?”

“Okay. I mean, I had a lot of free time, so I decided it couldn’t hurt to remember. It was like watching a movie that you’re the star of.”

Gandalf nodded. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Kelly shook her head. “I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt. I know why I was taken and I’m okay with remembering. I don’t feel broken.”

“Because you’re not broken.”

“Then why do I have to be here?”

“You were kidnapped. It’s mandatory, that’s all.”

“Well, I promise I’m fine. The only thing bothering me is that my sister is dating the Orc that killed me, but,” she shrugged. “What can you do? I think I was starting to remember before. Gradually, you see.”

“It’s possible. Some memories just come on us. Most, however, remember,” he snapped his fingers. “Like that. It’s usually not gradual.”

Kelly shrugged. “It was sort of both for me. I actually think it’s pretty cool. Aside from the dying part.”

“I understand that,” Gandalf said. “How about the kidnapping. Why were you taken?” Kelly leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. “It’s okay to talk about it, Kelly.”

“I know. But I don’t think I should be forced to talk about it when I don’t want to. I know why I was kidnapped and it’s over. I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“That’s not true. Kelly, you’re a reincarnation of a prince. There are those out there that will want to take you.”

“I can fight and defend myself now. I remember. You think there’s nothing useful in that. It’s like having the knowledge without putting in the work. It’s awesome! I won’t be caught unaware like that again.”

“Putting your trust in Aiza Gunde is not wise.”

“Maybe not, but my dad trusts her. Her son is my sister’s boyfriend. I can accept it. It’s more advantageous than you think.”

Gandalf hummed. “You always did have the making of a general when you put your mind to it.”

“I know it wasn’t often,” Kelly said with a shrug. “But either way, we aren’t who we used to be. And Aiza was the one who got me out of there. She isn’t Azog anymore. Why should I be Kili?”

“Fair enough,” Gandalf said, jotting notes down. “What are your thoughts about your dad and Bilbo, in this life and the last?”

“I want them to get together. My dad was happy with Bilbo before, I know he can be happy again and with the whole gold-sickness thing, I don’t think my dad’s going to let that take over again. He remembers, right? Why would he want it to?”

“What about yourself?”

“Greed and love of money is normal. We can’t avoid it, but we can control it. It’s a matter of how big of a grasp you have over that control.”

“Indeed it is.”

“I don’t know if Smaug was working for anyone else, but I think it’s important to protect Frodo. He’s the Ring Bearer, or was, right?”

“He was.” Kelly stood. “Where are you going?”

“To find Frodo and tell him I remember. And that he doesn’t have to be scared.” She closed the door behind her and Gandalf stared at it.

_Interesting development…_


	22. Chapter 22

_He pressed his lips against Thorin’s chest, hands pushed his legs apart as that mouth moved down his torso to his groin._

_Bilbo squeezed his thighs before letting go of one, pressing a finger against his hole. Thorin gasped, arching his back and twisting the sheets. Bilbo rubbed the pad of his finger around the rim, watching Thorin come apart._

_“Roll over,” Bilbo said._

_Thorin obeyed and hid his face in a pillow as Bilbo massaged his ass, spreading the cheeks apart. Thorin bit the pillow when something wet lapped at his hole. He moaned, shaking through each lick._

_Thorin wanted more._

_Needed more…._

He opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. Groaning, he reached down and felt his erect cock through the fabric. He sighed and rolled over onto his back, slowly waking up and wondering if he could take the time settle this or if he ought to will it away.

He bit his lip and closed his eyes, pushing his pants down and took his cock in hand, stroking slowly as he thought on his dream. Imagined the hand was smaller, less callused…

He thought on how Bilbo’s mouth might feel on his skin, how he’d take control…

Thorin wondered if Bilbo was a gentle lover or if he preferred something rougher…

Thorin gasped, back arching, and spilled.

He didn’t expect it to be that fast, but better fast than getting caught, he supposed.

He stripped the undershirt off and pulled his pants up before stripping the bed sheets and putting them in the bin. They’d know, say not a word about it, but it was enough to make Thorin more self-conscious as he got ready for the day.

 _There’s nothing to be ashamed of_ , a voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Gandalf said. _Sex and sexual activity is normal. It’s quite healthy._

Thorin sighed and went to dress before an orderly came in with breakfast. He expected at least a raised eye, but the woman didn’t even give him a dirty look before leaving with a promise to send someone over with fresh sheets. He thanked her and ate while reviewing his schedule for today.

After breakfast, he could go to the day room. Bifur will likely be there, meaning more chess. Perhaps his mother will visit.

Bilbo would be here for lunch.

Thorin swallowed, staring at Will’s name.

Sometimes he forgot that that was his name now.

_Bloody hell, I’m losing myself to him again._

Not that that was a bad thing, of course. He knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t a good thing either. Perhaps an expected thing. And still, the fear that he might hurt him again lingered.

He wanted to get out of here. Not for himself, his mother, or his daughters—not to say they weren’t good motivation to get better—but for Will. To be worthy of the beautiful man he was falling in love with all over again.

Then there was Will’s memories.

He was terrified that the first thing Will would remember would be of Thorin trying to kill him. And if it was, what would Will do? Bilbo forgave him in the end, true, and on his death bed, it was enough.

But here?

Here, Thorin didn’t think Will would be as forgiving. Not when he had a child to take care of. Thorin didn’t think he deserved this chance. He didn’t Bilbo then either.

What made him think he deserved Will now?

He loved him. Losing him would break his heart, and _yet_ he was at Will’s mercy. Completely.

Thorin pushed the plate away, appetite gone, and wept.

#

Will signed in around noon, flustered due to bad traffic, which made him later than expected.

Thorin was still waiting in the day room and Bilbo kissed his cheek in greeting without thinking about it. He was lucky Thorin hadn’t panicked. He just looked at him and Will smiled.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Traffic was murder. Hungry?”

“Yes.”

Will held his hand out, grinning. He didn’t know when he started falling in love with Thorin. Most wouldn’t even have given him the time of day.

And yet, Will couldn’t imagine not having Thorin in his life any longer than he already had. He felt he’d known him once before, but he couldn’t pinpoint where. Thorin made his heart beat faster, made him entertain the idea of dating again and having a life with this man and raising their children together.

They left the day room, hand in hand, and to the cafeteria. The weather had decided against another picnic, but really, that just meant they couldn’t eat outside. Sometimes, that was all that mattered. As for Thorin, he seemed distracted.

“Something on your mind?”

Thorin looked at him, adorably unsure of himself. Will took his hand and kissed it. “You can tell me, love. You know that, right?”

“It’s nothing, just doubts.”

Will blinked. “What sort of doubts?”

“Whether I really deserve you,” he admitted. “You’re successful. Handsome. A good father. I’m…”

“Also a good father and also very handsome,” Will said. “And you’re doing all you can to put your life back together. I think you deserve someone who loves you regardless. Someone who will stand by you through thick and thin. Everyone deserves that. I just hope I’m that person for you. And sometimes I hope that you’ll be that person for me. Maybe I’m in love with you. Right now, I don’t really know. But I do know that I like you and I want to spend time with you. At the moment, I kind of think it’s heading in a more romantic direction, but if that changes and you’d rather have something platonic, let me know.”

Thorin nodded, staring at Will as if he couldn’t believe what was in front of him. Will leaned forward and kissed him, cutting off the gasp coming from Thorin’s mouth. He pulled away and bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t overstepped.

Thorin cupped his cheek and kissed him back. It was not their first kiss and yet there was a reluctance behind it that Will couldn’t quite understand.

Reluctance eventually became something with a little desperation. A plea of sorts which Will had only had from men whom he’d broken up with.

 _Forgive me_ , it said. _I love you. I’ll be better. I promise_.

But that couldn’t be the message behind it, right? It couldn’t be.

“I love you,” Thorin whispered as the kiss broke. “I love you, Bilbo.”

Will pulled away, his chest aching. “Who’s Bilbo?”

He watched the color drain from Thorin’s face. “I…oh, God, Will, I’m sorry, I just…it’s a nickname I thought up of,” he said. “I never meant to say it aloud.”

“Really?” Will asked, crossing his arms.

“You’re full name’s William Robert, right? Isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Now he was blushing. Will wasn’t sure he believed it. He wanted to, but the horror in his face…no, this wasn’t just a slip of the tongue. “Well, Bill’s another name for William and Bob for Robert, so I sort of combined them and…it worked, so…you don’t like it, do you?” Thorin ran his hand through his hair. “Damn it, it wasn’t meant to come out like that. I’m sorry.”

Will sighed. “That’s the truth?”

“Yes,” Thorin said. “Was I wrong about your middle name?”

“No,” Will said. “But I can’t say I like it. How about you just stick with ‘Will’?”

Thorin nodded and took his hands, kissing them. “I can do that.”

“At least I know there isn’t some ex or something I should be worried about.”

Thorin scoffed. “I’ve not had a romantic relationship since I deserted the army,” he said. “And I meant what I said: I love you. Perhaps I’m a little hasty in admitting that, but it’s true. I’m yours if you want me to be. I want to be whom you deserve. But I’m scare that I’m not that man. I’m stuck here for who knows how long. I can work to get out and I want to. I really want to. I love you so much. I should shut up before I scare you.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Will asked. “If you’ve not scared me yet, I think you don’t have anything to worry about.” He stood. “I have to pick Frodo up from school, but I’ll be back for his appointment with Gandalf today.”

“Of course,” Thorin said, smiling.

_“Go back to your armchair…”_

“I’ll see you then.”

_“Plant your trees…”_

Will nodded, kissing his cheek again.

_“Watch them grow...”_

His heart hurt. Like it’d been squeezed so tightly, his whole body could feel it.

#

“Caucasian male, early to mid-thirties,” the nurse shouted. “Dislocated shoulder, broken ribs, punctured lung…”

“Frodo…”

“Mr. Baggins, stay still.”

“Where’s my son?”

“Prep him for surgery.”

The nurse squeezed his hand. “You’ll be all right, you’ll see your son again. Promise.”

He blinked. Her face…why was it so hideous?

_Frodo…_

_“You think he’ll come?”_

_His heart ached. “Who?” he asked. Thorin couldn’t come…_

_“Gandalf,” Frodo said, smiling as though it was obvious. Bilbo relaxed._

_“Of course he will. He wouldn’t miss a chance to let off his whizz-poppers…”_

_“I’m sorry for everything!”_

“Frodo…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehehehehehehehehehe
> 
> Can't catch me. 
> 
> *runs*


	23. Chapter 23

Bilbo remembered that his life wasn’t always so mundane.

There was a time where he was at content with it—the mundane, you see—but after his adventure, after his heart was lost to a Dwarf King, mundane was just…that.

Never changing.

Never accepting of what he’d gone through.

And for that, he wept when Frodo volunteered to go to Mordor. It didn’t help that Frodo looked so much like Thorin and despite all rational thought— _Frodo is an adult. He’s old enough to do this. I can’t stop him. I’m too old to take the mantle—_ it really felt like he was letting his child walk to his death.

Like he had let Thorin.

He handed Sting to him and Frodo held it firmly. Better than Bilbo did when he first held a sword. Bilbo grinned.

“You’ll like this. The blade glows blue when Orcs and Goblins are around. And it’s times like that, my lad, that you must be _extra careful_.”

Frodo nodded and sheathed the blade as Bilbo fished through his trunk, there was one other thing he’d need.

“Here we are,” He exclaimed, unearthing the shirt. “You’ll need this, too,” he said. “Mithril garments are as light as a feather but as hard as dragon scales. Let me see you put it on.”

Frodo unbuttoned his shirt and a gleam of gold caught Bilbo’s eyes and a haunting melody, familiar and dangerous.

“Oh.” He said.

Frodo looked at him.

“My old Ring.”

Had he looked at Frodo, he’d have noticed him tense.

“I would very much like to hold it again.”

Frodo started to button his shirt back up and Bilbo lunged. Frodo jumped back and as soon as it hit him that it was out of sight, horror spread through Bilbo like ice.

_What did I do? WHAT DID I JUST DO?!_

Bilbo covered his face with his hand. “I’m sorry I put this on you, my boy,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry that you must carry this burden.” _It should have been me_. He turned away, not wanting to let his child see him weep. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Frodo embraced him. “It’s okay, Uncle. I’ll come home. I promise.”

 _Don’t make promises you cannot keep,_ he begged. _It is not okay. It’s not okay._

#

Will woke, eyes wet and limbs heavy. A nurse smiled at him as she recorded his vitals.

“Good morning, Mr. Baggins.” He raised his hand and pulled the mask off. “Where am I?”

“King’s College Hospital,” she said. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I…don’t. No.” The last thing he remembered was kissing Thorin at Maudsley. “Where’s my son?”

“His grandmother picked him up,” the nurse said. “Both of them are in the waiting room. You were in a car accident. The other driver just ran into your car and sped off. The police are still looking for him.”

Will groaned. “Lucky to be alive, then.”

“Perhaps.”

She put the mask back on. “Rest.”

“Not till I see my son,” he said. “I need to see my son.”

She bit her lip. “Let me talk to your doctor,” she said. Will nodded and leaned back. The dreams were familiar, like he’d lived them before—and more than that, they were like the things Frodo had told him.

He remembered so many things. He remembered Thorin, handsome, regal, and confident, looking at him as though he’s the most beautiful being in existence, even if his words were taunting. He recalled the anger and hurt they put each other through.

The death bed confession that left Will’s heart in more pieces than he expected and unable to put together until he had adopted an unruly teenager in dire need of understanding and guidance. A teenager who had become not only his heir but his son in all but name. It wasn’t the same, but it was enough to get him through what remained of his years.

Watching Frodo grow up into a fine man was a privilege he had not expected. Sending him to Mordor—into hell!—had nearly broken him. But he returned and those memories were muddled, the memories of an old man taken by dementia and now the weight of what he was told in those memories hit him.

The missing finger on his boy’s hand, being told how he lost it—

Will pulled the mask off and leaned over, vomiting on the floor since there was no bucket to catch his sick. A pair of nurses ran into the room, checking on him and called for someone to mop up the sick. “Is he good to be moved?”

“Call the doctor.”

_His teacher._

_It was his teacher!_

_IT WAS HIS TEACHER!!!_

Bilbo was taken out of the room as they disinfected the room he had been in.

#

After a talk with his doctor—he doubted he remembered being a goblin, though it didn’t help Bilbo to know that at all—Frodo was allowed inside, wailing as he climbed up and hugged Will, who pet his hair and kissed his cheek, whispering assurances that he was okay.

Frodo’s wails died down to hiccups while Will watched his mother and doctor converse through the window. Once Frodo was quiet, Will whispered in his hear.

“Your teacher hurt you in your past life?” Frodo stared at him, wide eyed. “Yes, buddy, I remember.”

“He’s Gollum.”

“I know, and I’ll talk to him. See if he remembers.”

“He doesn’t,” Frodo assured him. Will rubbed his back.

“Maybe not, but I still want to talk to him. I want to make sure. I need to make sure."

Frodo nodded and curled up beside him, sniffing. Will laid back down, an arm around Frodo’s shoulders. “I love you, buddy,” he whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

_Why did he have to remember? He’s just three, damn it! He shouldn’t remember._

#

It’d been three days since he saw Will last.

When he didn’t show for Frodo’s appointment, he assumed something came up. Figured he’d hear from him sooner or later and yet it never happened. Bifur insisted that he relax, but Thorin was having a hard time doing even that.

Had he changed his mind?

Did he not want Thorin anymore?

He wouldn’t blame him if that was the case…

It was after dinner by the time Frodo came with an older woman. He ran to Thorin and hugged him. “Hey, kid,” he said, “Where’s your dad?” he hoped he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt.

“He’s still in the hospital.”

Thorin blanched. “What do you mean?”

“Daddy was in a car accident, so he asked grandma to take me. Oh!” He pulled his back pack off to retrieve an envelope with Thorin’s name on it. “He said I had to give you this before my doctor’s appointment with Gandalf.”

“Frodo,” the woman called. Frodo looked at her.

“Go on,” he said.

He watched Frodo return to his grandmother’s side and after they were led to Gandalf’s waiting room, he opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

> _Dear Thorin,_
> 
> _You must be worried, if recall your paranoia correctly._
> 
> _Frodo might have told you I was in a hit and run. Some asshole rammed into my car and sped off. I’m still bed ridden, but I should be fine sooner or later, though it could be a while till I’m cleared to go home. In the meantime, my mother is taking care of Frodo for me._
> 
> _My doctor is confident that I’ll make a full recover, though whether I’ll be able to walk properly again is up in the air. Might need a cane. Frodo joked about that, saying he didn’t want me to turn into Lucius Malfoy (he watched The Chamber of Secrets with me here. He didn’t like him much and cheered for Dobby when he got his freedom). I promised I wouldn’t._
> 
> _Beside that, I remember._
> 
> _I remember being Bilbo Baggins, a Hobbit of the Shire. I don’t know if it was you saying my name or if it was the accident that triggered my memories, but either way, when I get out…_
> 
> _Honestly, I don’t know what I want to do. A part of me wants to yell at you for leaving me to live my life alone for eighty years. The other part just wants to kiss you senseless. Can’t decide which is more appealing._
> 
> _But if one thing never changed it is this:_
> 
> _I love you. I love you too much to let what happened between us stay. I know you were sick when you tried to kill me. I also know that you didn’t want to. You were angry and perhaps. But you were going to let go. You were going to put me down and probably flee. I don’t know. All I know is that your hands were letting go of me._
> 
> _I know you regretted it, and I really thought giving the Arkenstone to Bard and Thranduil would have made you see sense. Sometimes, after our quest, I had wondered why I went, but never once had I regretted it. I never once wished we never met._
> 
> _I love you, Thorin. I don’t want to live another lifetime without you by my side. I don’t think I can handle it, now that I remember._
> 
> _I know you’re probably doubting your worth to me, both in that life and this one, and I will tell you as often as I need to: I don’t need you to be rich. I don’t need you to be a king. I don’t need you to be a warrior or a hero. I just need you._
> 
> _I loved you. Not your titles nor your wealth. I loved Thorin Oakenshield. I loved the uncle who cared for his nephews as if they were his own. I loved the Dwarf who was impeccably awkward and said insulting things without intending to be insulting. I loved the man you had become over the years._
> 
> _The gold sickness changed that and it scared me. You weren’t my Thorin anymore and I would have done whatever it took to get that Thorin back._
> 
> _After you died, I would have taken the gold-mad Thorin if it meant you’d and your nephews lived. I wouldn’t have been happy, but you’d be alive and I could hope you’d be back. Watching you three die broke my heart. I had really thought I lost my family all over again and I don’t ever want to feel that again._
> 
> _So with that, I thank God or Eru or whatever deity watches over us now that you are here, that your nephews are now becoming beautiful young women, that Frodo is alive and as well as I can hope him to be (though I am not pleased that he remembers. That is not something a child needs to remember)._
> 
> _I want to be with you again. I want to take advantage of this second chance and I want to live the rest of my life with you, as we should have done._
> 
> _I want to be a family. I want to be complete with you and our children. I want Frodo, Phil, and Kelly to grow up healthy and happy. I want to see them become the strong adults they were before._
> 
> _I suppose I’m getting ahead of myself, but damn if I can’t help myself!_
> 
> _I don’t know if I’ll hear from you soon, but my phone number is written here if you want to call (if you’re allowed to call). Otherwise, you can send a letter with Frodo or mail it to my hospital room._
> 
> _I love you, Thorin._
> 
> _Your Ghivashel,_
> 
> _“Bilbo”_

Thorin read it several times, hoping he was reading it right, comprehending it right…

He remembered.

And to Thorin’s immense surprise, he wasn’t angry. He truly thought if Bilbo remembered, he’d hate him. He’d push him away and Thorin was ready to accept that. This was _not_ even something he imagined happening if Will remembered.

He excused himself from the day room, locking himself in his bedroom, and wept.


	24. Chapter 24

There were parts of Aiza’s life that she had to push down at times, though right now she let it free. Parts of her being that would boggle Azog to no end.

Mani-Pedis were one of them.

She might have been an Orc in her past life, but she was a human now. A human woman, in fact, and she liked to be pampered. Besides, Phil was enjoying herself too. She had invited Kelly, but the lass was in a perpetual tomboy faze that may or may not die out. Aiza liked her just as much as she did Phil.

“Boss?”

“Yes?” Aiza asked careful not to jostle the poor woman and accidently kick her face as her toenails were painted a rich bright red. “Bolton found Norris.”

“In our territory?”

“No. He’s visiting his brother.”

“Oh? Send someone to pick Bolton up, then.”

“You know he only wants to help.”

“He can help when he’s older,” Aiza said. “Though I do appreciate my son wanting to help. He’s a good lad.” She glanced at Phil, who looked torn between having fun and wondering if it really is fun getting one’s nails done.

For Aiza, it was more relaxing. She was often in high stress situations where she couldn’t let her guard down. And relaxing can be fun in its own way.

Besides, the lass didn’t get much of a chance to pamper herself, if Aiza recalled her time in foster care.

“Gary’s on his way to pick him up.”

“Good,” Aiza said, letting out a content sigh. “What else?”

“Are you still insisting on attending tonight’s gala?” he asked. Aiza arched a brow. “Right…well, the Goblin King was wondering.” Aiza wrinkled her nose. Damn. “I know you don’t think so, Ma’am, but after Smaug, we could really use his support.”

“That toad wants more than to just offer ‘support,’” Aiza muttered. “Is it bad enough that I will need to talk to him?”

“Smaug’s men are either ripe for the picking or planning retaliation against you and everything we own.” Aiza sighed. This was becoming less fun.

“The gala’s not till eight. I think we can spare the time to visit Thorin.”

“Ma’am, given your past with him, I know you value his opinion, but siding with Thorin isn’t wise.”

Aiza clicked her tongue and smirked. “Eddie, do you remember your first love?” The blush that rose to his cheeks was both uncommon and entertaining. “Because I do. I was sixteen years old and he just a couple months younger. He was a sweet boy…of course we broke up. He’s definitely _not_ Bolt’s father.” That man had died on the battle field after Aiza was discharged to have her baby. Pity that. He was a nice man. “But he was my first love. And that girl is Bolt’s. And her father, believe it or not, is someone I want on my side. Bolt and Phil can go on their dates in peace while I wrangle Thorin to my side.”

The manicurist stood. “If you’d follow me, ma’am,” she said, leading Aiza to the drying table. She left and Eddie cleared his throat.

“Killing him likely didn’t help,” he whispered.

“That was then,” Aiza said, frowning at him. “I’m not that person anymore. I like to think Thorin and I overcame our differences and agreed to let our past lives stay in the past.”

Sometimes she did wonder about Thorin’s views on that. He clearly didn’t trust her the way he used to prior to remembering. Still, it wasn’t like she was going to stab him in the foot and then in the gut any time soon.

That would be barbaric.

Phil joined them still staring at her midnight blue nails as though wondering if she’d chosen the right color. “Eddie,” Aiza said with a wide grin. “Be a dear and pay for me.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

#

Will favored his good leg as he packed his things. His mother had agreed to help him out till he was fully healed and Frodo had announced that he gave the letter to Thorin, which led to some questions Will wasn’t ready to answer.

For now, he managed to deter her attention away from Thorin, but he couldn’t hold her off for long. She saw him with Frodo, after all, and she could be viciously determined when she puts her mind to something.

The door opened and Frodo walked in, twisting his shirt in his hands.

“Daddy?”

Will patted the bed. “Sorry, bud, can’t move much.” Frodo ran to the bed and climbed up before holding his arms out. Will set the socks he was folding down and lifted Frodo up. “You have a good lunch with Gran?” Frodo nodded. “Okay, then. How about you help Dad finish packing so we can go home.”

“I wanna see Thorin.”

So did Will. “We’ll go see him tomorrow,” he promised. “When we go to see Gandalf.”

Frodo pouted and Will wished it didn’t look so cute. He wanted to pout, too, but he and Thorin needed to talk. Even with the letter, he worried Thorin wouldn’t believe him. He kissed Frodo’s cheek and ruffled his hair.

“I love you, buddy.”

“I know, Daddy,” he said putting his unevenly folded shirt in the suitcase.

“Almost ready, love?”

Will looked at his mother, trying to gauge who she used to be. He couldn’t. This woman wasn’t anyone he knew. His cousin, he knew, was his mother once. And Frodo’s birth parents were the same as before. But this woman…his mother…

It sort of felt off calling her mother when he expected her to be Belladonna though Belladonna was now a cousin he grew up with.

“Yes, Mum.”

 She stepped inside and kissed the top of Frodo’s head. “So, about this man at the hospital—”

“Can we _not_ discuss this yet? Please?”

“William…”

“On my own time, Mum,” he said.

“Frodo seems quite—”

“ _Mum_ ,” he growled, fixing her with a glare. God damn! He loved her but for the love of all that is good must she _pry_? He took a breath. “He is in the hospital for PTSD, all right? And there’s not much he’s comfortable with. I don’t think it’d be wise to introduce him to more people yet. I’ll ask him. All right? But unless he tells me it’s okay, I am not introducing you or anyone else.”

She sighed. “Fine, but you can’t hide him forever, Will.”

He knew that. But for now, he just wanted to keep him to himself.

Frodo put the last shirt on the pile and grinned. “Done.” Will ruffled his hair and zipped the suitcase closed. “Can we stop at McDonald’s on the way home?”

“No,” Will said. “But I don’t see why we can't get some for dinner."

#

Thorin glared at Aiza’s smug grin.

“No.”

“It’s just a gala. You just need to stand there looking pretty. You’re good at that. True, we’ll need to clean you up a bit.”

“No.”

“But it’d be good for you. You’re London’s Batman.”

“I’m quite certain I’m not.”

“Perhaps that’s a bad analogy, but you have the best glare of them all!”

“No.”

“There’s free food.”

“I don’t think my palate will survive what gets served at a gala.”

“And an open bar.”

“Not allowed to drink. Doctor’s orders.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It certainly is not, dearie.”

Aiza paused. “Did you just call me ‘dearie’?”

Thorin blushed. “I may have been convinced to watch _Once Upon A Time_ by a certain fourth grader,” he admitted. “I really like it. I can’t explain why but I really like Rumplestiltskin.”

“What if I convinced a certain book editor with blond curls and cute dimples to come? You have to be dying to see him in a suit.”

 _Damn, she figured it out._ It was a rather pleasing image, though…Will in a suit. Fixing cufflinks. Smiling in a way that says ‘yeah I’m hot…’

“Aw, you’re blushing,” Aiza teased.

“He’s still in the hospital after his accident as far as I know so I doubt he’s in any shape to go to a gala.”

“There’ll be others,” she said, waving it off. “We can chaperone our lovely children.”

“Is this event child appropriate?”

Aiza sighed. “Thorin, I can beg all I like, but the fact is that at this event I’m going to be signing off a deal with an extremely creepy man who refuses to take no for an answer. I’d cut him to pieces if I could, but that tends to be looked down on. I like being a woman, but there are certain disadvantages to it.”

“Why not just kill him.”

“Because, as much as I hate to say it, I actually need him. I’m not dragging myself through the mud to get what I want from him, but it’s undeniable.”

“And who is it?”

“Trevor Reyes,” she said. “Formerly the Goblin King. The very one the wizard killed in your escapade from Goblin Town.”

Thorin nodded. “Lead with that next time. And Aiza: no. You’re Azog the Defiler. I get that he’s a creep, but you’re a queen and the day you forget that is the day I worry for my own sanity. Look at me: I’m trying to remind you that you are one of Middle Earth’s greatest generals. You get how wrong that is for me to say?”

“Just because we were on opposite sides before doesn’t make it any less true.”

“I know. Point stands. You don’t need my help. You know how to establish your authority and you don’t need me. So _why_ are you trying to convince me to go to something that you really don’t need me to go to? I know being human sucks, and I’m sure being a woman sucks more. But remember: from where I’m from, women are powerful fertility gods you do not cross.”

“You’re mother?”

“Among others…”

“What about infertile women?” Aiza asked, eyes narrowing.

“Still gods. Women are scary.”

“Good save,” she said, standing. “I’ll tell you how it goes.”

“Try not to rip out hearts and crush them.”

“You need a new show.”

“I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: The Gala!!!
> 
> About Aiza here. She's not scared, but she does want a little back up against what is bound to be a night of harassment she does not need or want. So be aware of that when next week's chapter comes. Still, she can take care of herself which is why Thorin kept saying no. I don't know why, but she just seems out of character here and I just...need to figure out why? 
> 
> Also, I don't know how many of you heard the news yesterday, but I've published my first short story on Amazon Kindle!  
> http://www.amazon.com/Erlking-Brittany-Keller-ebook/dp/B00YLR3RH6/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1433268036&sr=1-1&keywords=the+erlking


	25. Chapter 25

Eddie stood by her side, an imposing figure (or rather an attempt at it), as Aiza entered the ball room. Men in tuxedo suits and women in satin and chiffon gowns mingled on the floor.

Aiza’s lip curled, masking her grimace with a smile, and descended into the throng.

Men, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, Orcs, Goblins…they were here, both reincarnated people and not.

“And here she is!” Trevor Reyes boomed. “London’s reigning queen.”

“You best not say that in front of people loyal to the royal family,” she said.

“Changes nothing,” he replied, taking her hand in his sweaty one and kissed it. Aiza fought down the recoil oozing down her spine. “I’ve reserved a table and requested the fish.”

 _Good, my breath will be bad._ “How thoughtful,” she said. _Let go of my hand, you big, ugly toad._

He led her to a table and pulled a chair out for her. So far, he hadn’t done anything that required Eddie or her punching him in the nose.

Once she’s seated, he takes the seat beside her.

“Now,” Trevor said, laying his hand on her thigh. “Would you like to discuss our arrangement now or eat first, my dear?”

“How about we start with you not calling me ‘dear’ and taking your hand off me before I break it,” Aiza warned, a growl bubbling in the back of her throat.

The hand only moved lower to her knee. Aiza seized his wrist and pulled it off.

“Before we begin, let me make _one thing_ clear: I may have a woman’s form, but I am _still_ Azog, Trevor, and you will give me the respect owed me.”

“Fine,” he sighed, finding the threat more a joke than a warning to heed, and put both hands on the table. “How about we eat, Aiza? Then we can talk business.”

Aiza’s hands shook. A few were staring at her, awe and disgust in measure. Smaug’s cronies, perhaps? She wondered who would be next—who took over Smaug’s group.  _God_ how she _hated_ being stuck with this handsy, disgusting man for longer than a few minutes what with his eyes roaming in a way his hands can’t. Barbaric though it was, Aiza was sorely tempted to cut them off anyway.

A woman in a short gown approached. Her black hair was pulled in a barrette. Young, under thirty, from Aiza’s guess, and the classy appearance was a ploy. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But are you Aiza Gunde?”

“I am,” she said. The girl sat down, not that Aiza thought Trevor minded. “What can I do for you?”

“Just wanted to say ‘thank you,’” she said. “For taking care of Sam.”

Aiza arched a brow. “I would not have guessed he’d have a sweetheart.”

“No, he didn’t. I was part of his inner circle. He was my brother, in fact. Hence why I’ve taken over his group. Kidnapping a little girl was a tasteless thing to do on his part. Had I known about it, I would have put a stop to it sooner.”

Aiza arched a brow. “You’re a mother?”

She grinned. “My daughter’s six months old.”

“How precious,” Aiza said. “I’ve a son, he’s thirteen.”

“Which brings me to why I’m here,” she said. “That’s him, isn’t it? With the cute blonde girl?”

“What?!” Aiza snapped, scanning the crowd. She found them being gushed over by a few adults. Normally, she’d be quite happy to dress Bolt up in a suit. He did look so handsome. And Phil was dressed in a floor length ruby dress with a white headband holding her hair back and sandals on her feet to show off her pedicure.

“They said they were part of your party, but…”

Aiza sighed and leaned over. “Come with me, this bastard’s a creep and I’d rather _not_ leave another woman in his presence while I take care of those two.”

“Of course,” she said, standing.

“You haven’t given me your name.”

“Alice Grag,” she said.

“I take it you knew a lot about your brother?”

“Sam had his…eccentricities, of course, but I know about the reincarnation thing. Never believed it, though.”

As far as Aiza knew, Smaug did not have a sister in their past, but they didn’t know much about dragons, so who knew? “Bolton,” Aiza snapped, crossing her arms. Bolt and Phil turned to Aiza and grinned innocently. “Don’t give me that look,” she said. “Neither of you are supposed to be here.”

“Uh, yeah, about that…”

“Bolt said it was okay,” Phil said, frowning. “And I thought that was why we went to the salon…”

Aiza pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine…you can stay, but _really_ , Bolt? How did you even manage to trick the host into letting you come?”

Bolt grinned. “Eddie got them for us.”

Aiza spun around and glared at him. Eddie cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. “Well, I figured we could avoid altercations between you and Reyes if there were children present,” he said. Aiza shook her head and smacked the back of his head.

“You think I want that son of a bitch near my son? Had you thought what _Thorin_ might do if anything happens to Phil? You idiot! There are _Mafioso_ here! Gangsters from all over the world! And you decide having a pair to children here would control them?” Eddie blanched. “You weren’t even thinking,” Aiza growled, grinding her teeth together. She seized his jacket. “I will deal with you, later.” She let go and, as gently as she could manage, led Phil and Bolt back to the table. “Apologies, Trevor,” she said. “But I think it’d be best if I go. Raincheck?”

He was staring at Phil as though wondering where he’d seen her before. “Of course,” he said. Aiza led them out. “Wait! That girl!”

Aiza ground her teeth. “Bolt, take Phil and get out of here. _Now_.”

“But Mum—”

“There will be plenty of galas for you when you’re older. Now is not a good time. Go.”

Bolt took Phil’s hand and led her out. Aiza reached into her purse and pulled out a gun.

“That’s Thorin’s daughter! That’s—”

She turned and aimed the barrel at Reyes’ head. “One word and I swear to God I will blow your brains out, Reyes.”

“You are letting the daughter of our enemy go?”

“Our? No, no, no, she is _not_ my enemy’s daughter,” Aiza smiled. “Thorin is essential to me.”

“After what his family did your wife?” Reyes hissed.

“I am Azog’s reincarnation,” Aiza growled. “I am _not_ him anymore. I only have three things in common with him: memories, a soul, and a protective streak a mile wide. As for what happened to his family, it is tragic, but Thorin did nothing to warrant Azog’s hate. Thorin didn’t even _know_ about why Azog hated his family and wanted to wipe them out. I’m not going to act on a vendetta eons old. I suggest you do the same: learn from them, don’t be them.”

She hated it when that memory was dragged up.

The dead and dismembered orc woman, Bolg tortured and scared…it haunted her as it had Azog, but where it drove him to kill she tried to ignore it. It wasn’t her family. Bolt was safe. Nothing was going to happen to him in this life and hopefully him remembering would not happen for a good many years.

“You will not hunt Thorin’s family,” she growled. “Try anything of the sort and I will end you.” With that, Aiza left with Eddie right after her. Bolt and Phil were by her car.

“Mum?”

Aiza smiled and hugged him, kissing the top of his head. “Well, since we’re so fancy tonight, let’s go out to dinner,” she said. “Let’s go to Elistano. Sound good to everyone?” Phil and Bolt piped their agreement and filed into the car. Before Aiza followed, she spied Alice Grag at the top of the stairs. The woman smirked at waved before returning to the gala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcannon Time!!!
> 
> So I've two different headcannons for Azog. One for bookverse and another for movieverse. In bookverse, it doesn't seem to me that Azog has any driving force beyond protecting his home and that's literally it. He's just protecting his home from invasion. The Dwarves hadn't been there in centuries after all, so why not? 
> 
> In the movie, he's got a very big vendetta against the line of Durin and I kind of feel like it's just there to make him a villain, but it's not really concrete for me, so I figured if he's got a vendetta against the line of Durin, it's because they murdered his wife and Bolg, who is disfigured even for an Orc (have you seen other orcs with missing lips and a skull helmet, etc? I haven't), was tortured by them. Since there is no image of Bolg in the Battle of Azanulbizar flashbacks, I went with the idea that Bolg is actually pretty young at the time. Equivalent to, say, ten or so. Yeah. Anyway, I like the idea of Azog having a valid reason to hate Dwarves and specifically the line of Durin.
> 
> All in all, in general, I like to think Orcs have a culture similar to Elves that is more battle ready than Elves which lean more toward an academic/medicinal emphasized culture. It's like Sparta and Athens, in my mind.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in first part. Skip to hashtag if you like, but it's actually really funny smut.

Half the fun was in the possibility of getting caught, Thorin thought.

The door locked from the outside, so while they needn’t fear of other patients, the staff was another thing entirely. When Bilbo came in on a wheelchair to drop Frodo off at Gandalf’s, Thorin had felt…

Well, he felt a lot of things. Relief, sorrow, and anger were chiefest of them.

Sneaking into a closet big enough had been difficult but now that they were there, despite the risk, able to touch and for Thorin to assure himself that Bilbo was fine. He couldn’t exactly keep his hands to himself as they tugged at Bilbo’s hair and Bilbo’s hands slid under Thorin’s shirt, nails dragging down his sides, back, and backside.

Thorin remained mindful of Bilbo’s cast, careful not to put too much pressure on his lover.

It wasn’t all that comfortable for his knees, but it was worth it as Bilbo gasped in his mouth and shoved his hand down Thorin’s pants to grope his ass again. His hips canted, pressing his erection into Bilbo’s abdomen.

“If not for this leg, I’d suck you off so fast…” Bilbo whispered against his lips.

Thorin kissed him and slid off his lap before touching the tent in Bilbo’s trousers with his nose. Bilbo gripped the armrests and looked at the door.

“We won’t get caught,” Thorin assured him, though really he couldn’t know.

He unzipped the trousers and closed his mouth around the head of Bilbo’s cock and listened to Bilbo’s breathing grow labored and muscles tense under his hand. Bilbo whimpered and his head leaned back, exposing the column of his neck.

With a quiet cry, he came, semen hitting the back of Thorin’s throat as he swallowed as much as he could, licking Bilbo clean and wiping his mouth with his thumb.

“Cheeky,” Bilbo mumbled as he tucked himself back in. “You still have some on your chin. Here,” he dug a handkerchief out and handed it to Thorin. “It still doesn’t solve this,” he said, pressing his palm to Thorin’s groin.

“I’m aware,” Thorin said, pressing into Bilbo’s palm. “It’s fine.”

“I disagree,” Bilbo said. “I’d love to return the favor if I can. But I can’t think of anything to keep you clean in the absence of a condom. Relatively. If I had a condom on me…”

Thorin arched a brow and pulled away from Bilbo and grabbed a disposable latex glove. “Would this do?”  

Bilbo looked like he was about to laugh at any moment. “I don’t think that’s…”

Thorin glanced at it again, reevaluating it. “Probably not.”

Bilbo laughed.

“It was worth a shot,” he said, putting the glove back. “Is it possible you have one in your wallet?”

“I can’t tell if you’re eager or just horny,” Bilbo said, reaching for his wallet.

“Both,” Thorin promised. “I’ve waited for this day across time.”

Bilbo scoffed. “We’re having a quickie in a supply closet at a hospital. Hardly romantic.” He pulled out a wrapper and examined it. “Well, this is bloody useless.”

“What?”

“It’s expired.” Thorin shrugged and Bilbo glared. “I’m _not_ using an expired condom, Thorin. Especially one that’d been in my wallet forgotten for over a year.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s useless. Maybe if we cut one of the fingers off a glove…”

“That would look less ridiculous, but you’d still need to find one that fit right—”

The lock clicked and Thorin pulled Bilbo behind a metal shelf. He hid his face in Bilbo’s shoulder. First to ride out his orgasm, then to hide his embarrassment.  _Unbelievable_ , he thought, horrified. The nurse closed the door behind him and Bilbo huffed a laugh.

“That was close.” Thorin’s blush deepened and he refused to lift his head from Bilbo’s shoulder. Bilbo turned to look at him. “Goodness, you’re red! Did you…”

“I did.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame you.”

“It’s humiliating!”

“Indeed it is. I see some spare clothes here. Just find your size and your set.”

“And how do I get out of here without someone noticing that I have soiled clothes?”

“I’m not sitting on them,” Bilbo snapped. “My backpack?” Thorin finally lifted his head and glared at Bilbo, who laughed. “Oh my God, you are as red as my old prized tomatoes!”

“For that, I _am_ stuffing them in your backpack, you ass.”

“I’ve a very lovely ass, or so I’ve been told,” Bilbo said, winking.

Thorin grabbed his size and began to strip out of his trousers and pants, fully aware that Bilbo was watching.

“Your ass is quite lovely, too, if I dare say so myself.”

Thorin glared at him and flipped him off.

“One day, love. One day.”

“Must you be so cheeky?”

“I’m not the one who just came all over himself, love.”

“I’m never living that down, am I?”

“Well, I promise not to tell this tale at the dinner table, but yeah.”

Thorin pulled the fresh, dry trousers on and wrapped the soiled pair in a towel before stuffing them in Bilbo’s bag.

“Now, how do we get out of here without getting caught by a nurse?”

“High school all over again.”

“I assure you I was _not_ sneaking in an out of supply closets in high school.”

#

Aiza wasn’t sure what to make of Alice Grag.

She didn’t understand why the women didn’t seem to care about what happened to her brother. It didn’t make sense. No one just forgave the person who kills their brother.

That said, Aiza didn’t trust Alice at all.

She expected retaliation eventually, but an invitation to lunch was far from what she expected. So her guess was that Alice was plotting something.

Revenge, most likely.

Retaliation, understandably.

There was also the problem with Reyes.

She still needed to have that meeting and the vase of flowers and note inviting her to dinner (which she really couldn’t refuse no matter how much she wished to).

So here she was, meeting with the dragon’s sister at a café near the Eye of London, enjoying a latte before Alice arrived. Perhaps this was a trap, but that was what Eddie was for.

True, he couldn’t do much with one hand, but he could still pull a trigger and run if need be.

Alice walked in wearing a crisp coral suit and gold jewelry, her dark hair pulled into a professional ponytail. It was a contrast to Aiza’s shimmering silver and gold top and matching pants.

“Why are we here, Alice?”

“Unlike most of my men,” she said. “I think we can come up with an agreement. They want you dead, Aiza.”

“I find it hard to believe that you don’t.”

“We’re mothers,” Alice said. “If you think I wouldn’t do the same for my children or those of a friend, you’re sadly mistaken. I admit I do miss my brother, but,” she shrugged. “I never trusted him. We never really liked each other anyway. I’d rather join forces with you, Aiza. I don’t want to be enemies.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Aiza said. Alice nodded. “He was your brother.”

“Not all siblings get along. Sam and I never did. Even _when_ he started losing his mind and spewing nonsense about how he was a dragon in his past life. He also had a vendetta with a certain homeless man who had PTSD and currently is in the hospital.”

“Thorin. I know him. His daughter Philippa is dating my son. He’s a friend.”

“And one of the people my brother considered an enemy,” she said. “It was his younger daughter Sam kidnapped, wasn’t it?”

“Thorin doesn’t want to join a group.”

“No, but he’s bound to return to his old life. Used to be Thomas Durin, right? Big military family with ties to Erebor Mining Company?”

“What of it?”

“He doesn’t have to join us. Just knowing him or someone close to him is enough.”

“You want me on your side.”

“I’m asking if we can be allies despite what happened to my brother. And I could use a seasoned mother’s advice on how to care for my baby, as well as your expertise as a woman and a leader. Already the men under me are trying to find an excuse to get rid of me. So even _if_ I wanted revenge, I wouldn’t seek it. I need you, and maybe you could find a use for me.”

Aiza arched a brow. “You’re offer is more honest than anything your brother gave me.”

“I’m sure,” Alice said. “You own a club.”

“I do.”

“How would you like to see business boom? I have access to aspiring new talents who could use a head start in their careers.”

Aiza arched a brow and leaned forward. “I’m all ears.”

Alice grinned and leaned forward. “Are you still having issues with that slimy git Reyes?”

“I am.”

“When do you meet him next?”

“Tonight,” Aiza said. “Details aren’t on me right now.”

Alice wrote something on a napkin. “Text them to this number,” she said. “It’ll be taken care of.” With that, she stood and kissed Aiza quickly before leaving. Aiza blinked, stunned.

_What in the world?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of adding an adult F/F now. Thoughts?


	27. Chapter 27

_He was less frightened and more heartbroken at Thorin’s order. He couldn’t say he was surprised. No, most certainly not. He had done all he could to prevent a war—no, a massacre senseless and unnecessary. He couldn’t say he was surprised._

_No one grabbed him. Thorin seized Fili, who wrenched his arm out of his uncle’s grasp. Thorin snarled. “Fine,” he hissed. “I’ll do it myself!” He grabbed Bilbo’s coat and yanked him to the edge of the balcony. Bilbo winced when his back slammed against the rock behind him._

_Thorin’s grip slackened and for a moment there was nothing save the hurt and betrayal he felt in his gaze. But the message behind it…He never got the chance to hear as Gandalf broke through the crowd._

_“If you do not like my burglar, don’t damage him. Return him!”_

_And the cruel king under the mountain returned. “Fine,” he snarled shoving Bilbo away. “But no friendship of mine goes with him.”_

_“Go,” Bofur hissed. “Go!”_

_Bilbo scaled down the rope over to Gandalf. He glanced at Thorin once more…_

A scream jolted him awake and Bilbo cursed when he tried to stand. He cursed his leg and grabbed his crutches. “Frodo?” he called. The door to Frodo’s room opened and Frodo ran to him, weeping and hugging his good leg.

“Mordor again?” He nodded. Bilbo bit his lip, looking around for some solution to this problem. Normally, he’d pick Frodo up and assure him it was just a dream.

Well, that was a lie.

How does one chase away memories of a past life? How does one find a way to overcome that? “Let’s go to the living room, hm?” Bilbo said. “And watch a movie.”

“ _Ponyo_.”

“You want to watch _Ponyo_?” Frodo nodded again. “Then that’s what we’ll watch. I’m afraid I can’t carry you, buddy.”

Frodo nodded and followed Bilbo down the stairs. While Frodo grabbed the movie, Bilbo turned on the BluRay player and telly. He Frodo brought the disk to him unable to get it out of the case. Once free, Frodo went to put it in the player before cuddling next to Bilbo.

He hadn’t found a way to tell his parents that he wanted to go by some weird nickname now. Likely they wouldn’t go by it anyway no matter what he requested from them. That’s just not who they were.

Bella, on the other hand, his cousin who was once his mother, she would. Hell, he didn’t even know if she remembered. But remembered or not, she’d call him “Bilbo” instead of “Will.” It was almost impossible to separate the two, and yet who he was now was quite different from who he was before.

Perhaps there was a way to make the two meet in the middle. The best of Bilbo and the Best of Will.

At least, with Bilbo, he didn’t feel like he was grasping at straws anymore. Frodo curled like a cat next to him and Bilbo wrapped an arm around him protectively.

“Is seeing Gandalf helping?”

Frodo shrugged and Bilbo hummed. He’d talk to Gandalf then. Given he couldn’t tell one way or another if it was doing any good for his child. He could hope, yes. But that wasn’t the same as knowing. At the least what was plaguing Frodo wouldn’t be ignored or written off. And to Bilbo, that was more important in some ways than it was for Fordo to forget.

In fact, forgetting might not be the best idea. Tolerate maybe?

These memories weren’t something Bilbo could just write off. Not his and especially not Frodo’s.

_I should write a book based on our past lives._

It would be a marvelous idea. On screen, Ponyo raced across the clashing waves in hopes of getting to Sousuke.

#

Aiza scanned the headline.

 _Kingpin in Drug Cartel shot dead._ Below the headline was a rather unflattering picture of Reyes. Truth be told, he always unflattering to look at. An alliance with Alice Grag seemed to be the better deal she could make anyway.

Thundering footsteps alerted her to Bolt running down the stairs he grabbed a bagel and stuffed it in his mouth. “What are you doing?”

He took the bagel out. “Overslept,” he said.

“School doesn’t start in a couple hours.”

“Meeting Phil for coffee.”

“You’re thirteen, you don’t need coffee.”

“Says you,” he said, smirking. “You’re old.”

Aiza gaped at him. “Are you giving me cheek?”

“Maybe,” he said. “Got to go, Mum. Love you.” Aiza shook her head as he fled. Whether as Bolt or Bolg, he was still a cheeky little brat on the best of days.

He was an adult when they finally avenged Vagar for what the Line of Durin did to her. It cost them their lives and that knowledge helped Aiza remember that grudges led to mistakes. Besides, she liked Thorin now. Quite a bit. She never really hated him to begin with. Just what he represented…

She cleared her throat and scanned the article about Reyes’ assassination.

She finished her breakfast when the phone rang at last.

“ _Didn’t get too much blood on you, did we?_ ” Alice asked. Aiza smiled.

“I expect you to pay for that dress,” she said. “The stains will be stubborn to get out.”

“ _Done and done,_ ” Alice replied. “ _Would you meet me for dinner tonight? Discuss our new business transaction a little bit?_ ”

“Of course. What about your daughter, though? Have you a sitter?”

“ _Some here are loyal to me. I trust them._ ”

Aiza hummed. “If you insist. I was going to offer my son…then again, I’d rather he take a babysitting class first.”

“ _That would be wise,_ ” Alice agreed. “ _Why? Do you want to meet her?_ ”

“Maybe,” Aiza said. “Would it matter?”

“ _Perhaps another time,_ ” Alice said. “ _Someone will contact you with the details for tonight. I look forward to seeing you, Aiza._ ”

“Same.”

Alice hung up and Aiza set the phone down. Well then, she had questions and while she wasn’t sure Thorin would be able to answer them, he was her best shot at finding them.

#

“I think you use Gandalf as an excuse to see me,” Thorin said. “When you don’t have to.” Bilbo laughed.

“As much as I would love that sort of idea, I promise that is _not_ it in the slightest. I’ve been to visit you personally before, if you recall. Or has my cooking not lived up to expectation.”

“No,” he said. “You’re cooking is beyond expectation,” Thorin said.

“Good answer. Suck up.”

“Excuse me but I’m surrounded by people who could hurt me! I have to suck up once in a while.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Really? She’s one of them,” he pointed at Aiza, who had just come into the room. Bilbo turned around and stiffened. He looked at Thorin.

“You are on friendly terms with Azog the Defiler?”

“Apparently that was the name we gave him and his people called him the Mighty or something equally bland.”

“Actually,” Aiza said, “I was Azog the Pale to the majority. I didn’t get dubbed ‘Mighty’ or ‘Great’ till later. Then you cut my arm off and it was Azog Ironhand. Not my favorite. Bilbo, I take it?”

“Yes,” Bilbo said tersely. Aiza ignored it.

“You needn’t worry. Thorin and I were in the army together when we remembered. So our relationship is…unique.”

“Well that’s one word for it,” Thorin said. “Annoying is another.”

“I must say: I never got a good look at you before, but you really are cute.” Bilbo blushed, clearly unsure how to read that. Thorin didn’t blame him. It wasn’t every day you run into the person who murdered your lover in their past life.

They did have a very complicated relationship and Thorin hadn’t begun to fathom what would happen if he introduced Bilbo to Aiza.

So far, he guessed it wasn’t as bad as expected.

“You visit Thorin regularly then?” Bilbo asked.

“Not as regularly as you,” Aiza said, “But yes. Actually there’s a matter I wanted to discuss with Thorin but it can wait.” She stood.

“You may as well get it over with,” Thorin said. Aiza frowned. “Whatever you can say to me can be said to him.” Aiza sighed.

“Fine. A woman has taken interest in me. And by taken ‘interest,’ I mean she kissed me. Not exactly sure what to do.”

“Never happened before?” Thorin asked.

“Well, there are cases were people don’t realize they’re queer till they’re older. Or rather repress it for some reason,” Bilbo added.

“So…”

“You might be bisexual,” he said. “Or pansexual. Somewhere on that spectrum.”

Aiza sat back down. “That’s it?”

“I don’t know,” Bilbo said. “Is it? For the most part, figuring out your sexuality can take a while, lots of soul searching and for some people, it takes acceptance of themselves just as much as it does of others.”

Aiza hummed. “That makes sense.”

“Give it a shot. Sometimes your sexuality doesn’t play a part in who you fall in love with. It usually does, of course, but it doesn’t have to.” Bilbo scoffed. “I’m giving advice to an Orc…”

“Former Orc,” Aiza said. “Not been an orc for a while now if you must know. I thought that would be obvious especially given I’m not attempting to kill your lover again.”

“You know, I think I’ve every right to be wary of you for that reason _alone_.”

“Oh, you’ll definitely not like that her son is dating my daughter.”

“Phil?”

“Yep.”

“And he was Bolg,” Thorin said. Bilbo looked between them. Thorin nodded. “I’m still apprehensive about that, but so far I’ve nothing to complain about. He’s scarily polite.”

“Ah.”

“I promise you’ll get used to this.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“You will,” Aiza said. “I’m not likely to go away any time soon.”

“You’re worse than my sister.”

“I’m well aware.”


	28. Chapter 28

Kelly slid into the seat across from Bolt and fixed him with a dark stare. He ignored her for the most part, easy to do, Kelly wasn’t usually so open to approaching him. In fact, this was the first time she did so without Phil present. And without Phil, he was a little lost as to how to address Kelly.

He looked up from his homework (a six question paper on his _Oliver Twist_ reading for Lit.) and arched a brow at her. “Kelly.”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she said, shrugging.

Okay then.

“Then could you stare at something else. It’s not exactly polite to stare at people.”

“Wow, the gangster’s son cares about politeness,” she said. Bolt was used to comments like that, but it didn't make it any less grating. He sighed and set his pen down.

“What do you want, Kelly?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Just to talk.” He set his pencil down and crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. “What are your intentions with my sister?”

Bolt blinked, feeling his cheeks warm. “I like her. A lot. I don’t really have any other intentions…at least none that I know of…why?”

“Just wondering if I’ll have to deal with you for a lot longer than a few months,” she said. “You’re always together these days.”

“Erm…it’s not like I’m taking your sister from you, Kelly.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What do you think I’d do? We’re always meeting in public places or with a chaperone? It’s actually kind of annoying.”

But at least his mum usually had good ideas on what to do and where to go. He really couldn’t complain much. The chaperoning, while he wished wasn’t a thing, wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

Besides, Kelly and Phil’s dad sort of scared him.

“Look,” he sighed. “I don’t know what you think I’d do to Phil, but I promise I don’t intend to hurt her. I don’t know why you find that so hard to believe…well, actually, given what my mum does, I do know. Never mind. But that doesn’t change that you can trust me.”

“No. I can’t,” she said. “I can’t exactly tell you why, Bolg— _Bolt_. Sorry.”

Bolg?

_Why does that feel so familiar?_

Kelly cleared her throat. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to explain why I don’t trust you. For now that’s all I can say.” She stood. “I got to go. Archery practice.”

“Okay then.”

She left, backpack over her shoulders and hands stuffed in her pockets. Bolt looked at the sheet of paper again and shook his head of the thoughts running rampant through his mind.

#

“I love you,” Bilbo whispered in Thorin’s ear, hands twined together. “And I can’t wait for Friday.”

The day Gandalf finally decided to release him. Several disagreed, saying it was too early, but so long as Thorin came back twice a week for an appointment with him, he saw no reason to keep him around.

“Same,” Thorin said. “But are you sure you’re willing to meet my mother?”

“Who happens to be your sister, but doesn’t remember? I’m sure. It could be worse: my past-life mother is my extremely rambunctious cousin. To be fair, from all the things I remember, I really think I can handle your mother. It’s actually _my_ mother I worry about. I fear for you.”

Thorin arched a brow at him. “I’m not so sure…”

“Trust me.”

“I trust you, but I’m still not sure you’re right about your mother as opposed to me being wrong about mine.” Bifur cleared his throat, drawing their attention, and signed something. “Of fuck off,” Thorin snapped. Bifur grinned and Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Language. Both of you.”

“You don’t even know what he said.”

“If it warrants you, swearing, love, then I think it’s safe to tell you both to behave,” Bilbo said. Frodo approached them and climbed on Thorin’s lap with a book, which he then opened. “Frodo, what are you doing? Have you forgotten how to use words?”

Frodo blushed and looked at Thorin. “Will you read to me?”

“Sure.”

“Daddy, Gandalf wants to see you.”

“Okay. You don’t mind watching him?”

“Of course not,” Thorin said. “I don’t even get to do this with my girls anymore, even when I was able to.” Bilbo kissed his cheek and stood.

“I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he left them, glancing over his shoulder once to see Thorin turn a page. He could make out Frodo’s curls and he smiled, completely touched by the image presented. Clearing his throat, Bilbo went to speak with Gandalf.

“You said you were concerned with Frodo’s progress.”

“I am,” Bilbo said, sitting down. “The nightmares won’t go away. It worries me, Gandalf, and I’m not sure if…”

“There is nothing to be done about the nightmares,” Gandalf said. “The only thing we _can_ do is help him overcome the trauma he underwent while on his quest. I have no doubt Frodo will overcome his fears. And now that you remember, the process can and will take less time than anticipated. I cannot block the memories, as much as I wish I can. Otherwise I would do so until he were old enough to handle it.”

“And that’s just not possible,” Bilbo sighed, massaging his forehead. “So then what? What am I supposed to do? I can’t keep waking up to calm him down every night! I’m doing all I can, Gandalf, but I am drained. There has to be something we can do.”

“Unless you want to pump his veins with sleeping pills, which I suggest against. It’s imperative that Frodo be able to sleep on his own.”

“I _know_. I just…I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to get him to draw. I’ve tried to this. I’ve tried talking to him and to you. But it doesn’t help! None of it helps!”

He leaned forward, holding his head in his hands with his elbows pressed to his knees. Every fiber of his being thrummed with restraint. “I’ve tried nightlights. I’ve read as many books and articles as I can get from the library and online. I don’t know what else I can do.”

A hand patted his back. “You’re a good father, Bilbo. You always were and you always will be. Frodo’s nightmares are not changing that. It’s a challenge, I know. But you are managing it just fine. There will come a day Frodo can sleep through the night. It might not be soon, but it will happen.”

Bilbo scoffed. “It’s just as likely that he’ll be an insomniac,” he said, massaging his head. “And I don’t…”

“I understand that it is frustrating, not knowing how to help him overcome this trauma he remembers. And I am doing everything _I_ can to help. But I am not all powerful, Bilbo Baggins. There are some things I cannot do. The Elves are not here anymore, Bilbo. As far as I know, Elrond of the past would know more than I. And even then,” he shrugged. “Even then we cannot be sure Frodo will ever truly heal.”

Bilbo nodded.

“As it is, Frodo is willing to try hypnotherapy,” Gandalf said. “We just need you to be open to it. I cannot say it will help, but perhaps we could find out why Frodo is having nightmares so often. Is that fair?”

Bilbo sighed. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “I’ll do that and I’ll let you know later.”

Gandalf nodded. “All right. You do that. Think about it. And we’ll talk again next week?” Bilbo nodded, standing. “Another thing, Bilbo?”

“Yes?”

“You can trust Aiza Gunde,” he said. “She may have been an enemy then, but she certainly isn’t now.”

Bilbo crossed his arms. “I’ll consider that, too. But that doesn’t mean I’ll trust her.”

“She saved Kelly from Smaug,” Gandalf said. “And you know that Bolg and Fili are now a couple. A rather adorable one, in fact. Thorin and Aiza get along. I’m sure you can get some advice from a seasoned parent.”

“You’re saying she can help?”

“One single parent to another,” Gandalf said. “It’s worth a shot, is it not?”

Bilbo huffed. “Again, I’ll think about it.” With that, he left and collected Frodo, kissed Thorin on the cheek with a promise to see him at the end of the week, and left.

_Trust Azog?_

He shook his head. The very thought made his stomach churn.


	29. Chapter 29

Kelly released the arrow and it hit the target dead center. Tara and Lea gaped. “Since when did you get so good?” Lea asked as Tara went to inspect the arrow. “I mean, we’re good, but even then we don’t get a bullseye on the first try.”

“Bet you can’t do it again!” Tara shouted.

“What do you mean?” Kelly asked, frowning.

“Same target, same spot,” she said. Kelly bit her lip and glanced at the bullseye. She took another arrow and hooked it to the string. She pulled her arm back and aimed.

“Wait! Just a moment,” Lea said. She pulled out her phone. “Okay, if you make it, we post it online. If not, we’ll delete the video.”

“Really?”

“We’re not that mean.”

“You mean _I’m_ not that mean,” Tara said. “You’ll likely post it anyway.”

Kelly rolled her eyes. “Just take the video. It I hit it I hit it, if not,” she shrugged. “I’m not going to be embarrassed.”

“Okay,” Lea held the phone up. “Hey everyone! This is Kelly Durin and she just made _that shot_ ,” she pointed at the target. “We’re going to see if she can make it again. Preferably Merida style.” She moved to face Kelly again. “Okay, Kelly. When you’re ready.”

Kelly inhaled and exhaled, aiming the bow. She blinked, trying to concentrate, but the phone recording her remained on her mind. Exhaling again, she let the arrow fly. She missed. It hit the target, but it wasn’t dead center like before. Kelly felt red hot humiliation run through her. Tara seized the camera and deleted the video.

“Really?” Lea asked, taking her phone back.

“Kelly, it’s okay. You got nervous.”

“I could have hit it.”

“We know,” Tara said, embracing her. Kelly blinked back the tears. She promised she wouldn’t be embarrassed or upset, so why was she making a bigger deal out of it than usual? She huffed and stretched.

“Maybe we should clean up, yeah? Go to the cafeteria and then to watch the fencing team?”

“Sure,” Tara said, “You’ll come, too, right, Lea?”

“Yeah. I don’t see why not,” she said.

#

Phil and Gimleigh went head to head and she was gaining the advantage, forcing Gimleigh onto the defense. Both ignored the calls of their coach to calm down—or rather Phil didn’t hear the pleas. She was so caught in the moment, feeling powerful, spry, and strong.

Gimleigh tripped.

 _Now_. Phil aimed to jab the point into Gimleigh—

“That’s enough!”

“Gimleigh!”

“Are you all right.”

Phil blinked as she was pulled away from the ring. The coach crossed her arms and glared at her. “I told you to stop, Philippa.”

“I…” She looked down. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

The coach sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Okay, go clean up and we’ll call it a night.” The group headed to the locker rooms, but Phil was sidetracked by Kelly and her friends.

“You were amazing!” Kelly said.

“Not really,” Phil said. “I lost control. Speaking of…Gimleigh.” Gimleigh turned to them, glaring. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”

Gimleigh blinked, stunned. “I’m fine,” she said. “It was a feint.” From the way she hobbled, it obviously was _not_ a feint. Phil decided to let her keep her pride. After the assault she put her through, it was the least she could do.

“I’ll be out in a bit,” she promised. “And we’ll go home after, right?”

“Sure.”

Phil entered the changing room and went to her locker. Gimleigh nudged her arm. “You were like some warrior out there today.”

“Uh…thanks?”

Gimleigh smiled. “You’re welcome.”

The next few minutes passed silently. Phil returned to her sister, brow furrowed and feeling rather confused.

“Are you okay?” Kelly asked. “You look spooked.”

“Maybe I am a little spooked, she said. She smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Kelly. Let’s go home.”

“Okay.”

Kelly fixed her backpack and the quartet exited the gym. Tara and Lea headed over to a car where a man waited on his phone. He glanced at Phil and Kelly and arched a brow. Kelly pressed against Phil and Phil led her away. She wasn’t sure what it was about Tara and Lea’s father, but he made her feel uneasy.

Like he knew her secrets.

“Are you seeing Bolt later today?”

“No, but he and his mum will be at Dad’s welcome home party,” Phil explained. “As will Frodo and Will.”

“Maybe we should make a cake.”

Phil grinned. “We should. And biscuits.” Kelly nodded. “We’ll tell Gran when we get home, hm?”

“I like that plan.”

“Same here,” Phil said as they left campus. “Same here.”

#

Aiza looked up from the menu and smiled as Alice approached. “Thank you for meeting me.”

Alice hummed. “Thank _you_ for calling,” she countered. “I needed to get out of those meetings. And I was hoping to see you again. I didn’t know if I would.” Aiza hummed.

“You caught me off guard,” she admitted. Alice hummed.

“Never been kissed by another woman?”

“Not once till then.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not really. Actually, I find it preferable,” Aiza said, leaning on the table. “So I figured I’d invite you to dinner and ask, what exactly is it you want? Is this business relationship, which, clearly, isn’t just business, going to also be of a sexual nature or romantic?”

“Well, I wasn’t hoping for more after that, but I was thinking both,” Alice said. “If you’re amenable to dating a woman.”

“I promise, I have no problem with dating a woman.” Aiza leaned back in her seat. “If you like, I would like to call tonight the first of many others to come.”

Alice grinned. “I’d like that,” she said. Aiza smiled and waved a waiter over, requesting a bottle of champagne.


	30. Chapter 30

“I didn’t expect you to be home,” Darry said as Oliver hoisted his backpack over his shoulder. He blushed and turned to his uncle-slash-former-big-brother.

“I…”

Darry arched a brow and smirked. “So who is he?” he asked. “He must be pretty special if you’re staying with him nearly every night. Or are you in a hurry to meet him right now? Either way, I’d like to know more about this man, Ollie.”

“I know, but, well…” Oliver scratched the back of his head, wondering how to explain he was seeing an older guy. Of course, the ages they held back then made Dwalin older than Dori, true, which he guessed was the reason behind his aversion to Dwalin, and given the age difference now, it was likely Darry would still hold to that mindset.

Oliver didn’t blame him anymore. He understood where Darry might come from if Oliver revealed he was dating a man in his thirties. But would he understand that Dwade wasn’t taking advantage of him? Would he accept that Oliver was acting on his own volition?

He didn’t know.

“I suppose you’d just come along to meet him now if I told you I had to go, right?”

“Probably.”

Oliver sighed. “Well, we’re not ready for that, so I suppose I’ll tell you a bit about him.” He set his backpack down and sat on the couch. Darry sat in the recliner across from him. Oliver began with the day they met, how it was because of Norris he met Dwade. He left nothing out, save the reincarnation part. Darry might not be ready to accept that.

Hell, admitting that Dwade was in his thirties had been a bad move despite explaining that he was a good man and hitting all his good qualities. For a few moments, Oliver was afraid he’d have to text Dwade to tell him he wouldn’t be able to stay over the night because of his hardass uncle.

“I can ask if he’d like to meet you.”

“I would say he better be willing,” Darry said. “I know you’re voting age, Ollie, but I’m not willing to trust a man that much older than you.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him.”

“No. I will.”

“But Darry—”

“I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust him or you don’t trust me?” Ollie asked. “I love him. I know I love him. And he loves me. I know you probably think he’s taking advantage of me, but we’ve been together almost a couple months. I’m still going to school, I’m still studying, and yeah, I’m at his place a lot. We have dinner together. I do my homework there while he works. We eat together—usually cooking together. And we got out Saturday nights together and he knows Norris. He met my friends. They like him. Sure, they were also a little nervous at first, but they like him now. And I met his friends, too. Yes, he’s older than me, but he hasn’t taken advantage of me at all, Darry.”

“I will be the judge of that,” Darry said. He held his hand out. “Phone.”

“Are you taking the piss?!”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Darry.”

“You’re eighteen. He’s thirty-five.”

“Thirty-three.”

“I am agreeing to meet him, aren’t I?” Darry asked. “Until then, I don’t want you seeing him.” Oliver glared at him. “Give me your phone,” Darry said. “I won’t ask again.”

Oliver huffed and surrendered his phone. Darry thanked him and found Dwade's number before pulling out his own and calling him. Oliver fidgeted in his seat as Darry and Dwade conversed. Darry was coldly polite through the call and Ollie bit his lip, fury blinding him when Darry told Dwade he couldn’t go to Thorin’s welcome home party tomorrow night, even after being assured that Norris would be there too.

At last, the call ended with an agreement to meet for breakfast Saturday morning at Nero. Oliver glared at him and Darry sighed.

“It’s for your own good.”

Oliver stood. “Bullshit,” he said, heading to his room. He wanted to slam the door but knew better, shutting it with shaking hands before punching the wall. It hurt, but it was better than punching pillows.

#

Thorin barely remembered the house, and the neighborhood he grew up in had changed over the last few years. But he recognized it nonetheless, and the memories he had here. Memories where he was just Thomas. Happy, smiling, mischievous Thomas Durin.

“Home at last,” Desiree said, climbing out of the car. Thorin did the same and the girls jumped out of the van. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got you some new clothes,” she said. “And the girls helped. You can go take a shower and we’ll get you a haircut after lunch.”

“How’d you get my size?”

“Gandalf helped. As did the girls’ foster father. I also got you some suits in case you want to find a job other than the car shop.”

Thorin shook his head. “I might not, but there are other uses for suits, I guess.” Desiree nodded and led him inside. “When’s the party?”

“At seven,” she said. “We’re having lasagna and the girls made some treats for after.” Thorin hummed and Desiree squeezed his shoulder. “I also put your room back together. Your father had taken everything down when we thought you were…well, I got you a new bed and the like and so on. I kept receipts if you want to change anything or exchange them.”

He nodded. “Okay, Mum. Still upstairs?”

“Yes. Right across from Kelly’s room. You’ll know it,” she said with a wink. The girls ran downstairs.

“Dad, come on!” Kelly said, grabbing his hand. “You have to see your room.”

He laughed and let Kelly drag him up the stairs before he got tired of her pulling and lifted her up onto his shoulder. She shrieked and laughed. “Dad! I’m too old for this!”

“And yet you’re laughing,” he said, setting her down at the end of the hall.

He followed her to a room at the end of the hall. The door was blank and across from it was a sign that read Kelly’s name in black cursive letters. Kelly opened the door and stepped inside. Thorin looked around the room. His bed was mahogany wood. The mattress was soft and covered in white sheets with a blue down comforter. On top of the comforter was a dark green throw blanket. A pair of black pajamas was neatly folded on top of the bed.

“Do you like it, Dad?” Kelly asked.

He sat on the bed and smiled at her. “I do. Now, how are you handling your memories?”

“Well enough. I’ve been drawing. Can I show you?”

He nodded and she ran to her room. Returning a minute later with a sketch book. The drawings were childish and crude, but Thorin cherished them nevertheless. “Do you take art classes?”

“Other than required ones? No.”

“You should. These are good,” he said. He paused at one image. It was him at Bag End, smiling. “I remember this night,” he said. “We hadn’t seen each other for a while and I was happy to see you and your sister—then brother—in good health. I hadn’t the chance to talk to you yet, but I had wanted to.”

“Then you saw Bilbo and fell in love.”

“Not right away,” Thorin said, “But I certainly was attracted to him that night.”

“Will remembers now, right?” Thorin nodded. “Then you should marry him.”

“Kelly, there are steps—”

“I know.” She stood. “I’m going to help make lunch. You should do what Gran says and take a shower and try on some new clothes.” She ran out before he could stop her. Thorin sighed. Whether as Kili or Kelly, she was still the rambunctious, mischievous, little sprite he’d known her to be.

But she was right. He could really use a shower and he wanted to see what was in those chests now lining the wall. Thorin looked at a few more drawings, recognizing one of himself and Bilbo. A fond smile lit his lips at the image…

**_“I am not someone you need to protect,” Bilbo said. “I think I’ve proven myself over time and time again by now, Thorin Oakenshield—”_ **

**_He pushed him against the wall and kissed him ruthlessly…_ **

Thorin closed the book and sucked in a few breaths. That was when he was…when he was gold mad. Wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he remembered it before? Or maybe he didn’t want to remember?

That would make sense.

 _I’ll ask him tonight_ , he decided, standing and going to the bathroom. _I’ll ask him if I hurt him in other ways beside trying to kill him…_

It was a plan that filled him with dread, but dread or not, he would do it. He would ask.


	31. Chapter 31

Bilbo set Frodo down and he ran over to Kelly, who took his hand and led him around the house. He himself at last introduced himself to Thorin’s mother-slash-former-sister. They never met before and it seemed to him that Desiree (or Dis) did not remember. Oliver wasn’t here, but he approached Dwade, who seemed in a bad mood.

“Dori,” was the only word he heard him say to Thorin when Thorin inquired the whereabouts of Dwade's partner. Bilbo winced. He had hoped, but clearly not. Dori had always been a bit…overprotective of his brothers. But Norris was here, at least, and he seemed very interested in the food when he wasn’t brooding over Phil and Bolt.

He brought it up to Thorin, who sighed and nodded. “He never hurt her nor is he ever left alone with Phil,” he said. “Nori was Fili’s personal guard, despite his…kleptomania. I think that level of protectiveness transferred.”

“So…Nori is to Fili as Dwalin is to you.”

“Yes.”

“But he’s translating those feelings as romantic?”

“Unfortunately,” Thorin growled. He kissed Bilbo’s cheek. “Excuse me a moment.” Bilbo watched him approach Nori and whisper something to him that had Nori paling. He nodded and went back to eating, looking a little paler than before.

“What did you say to him?” Bilbo asked when Thorin returned.

“Nothing of import. Just reminded him that I don’t approve of him in a relationship with my daughter and that Bolt is the better option. And that the only thing protecting him from Aiza right now is me and that it would be very easy for me to hand him over to her.”

“What did he do to Aiza?”

“Robbed her or something of that sort a couple years ago. She was not pleased with him.”

“Ah. And Aiza being Aiza…”

“Oh yeah. She won’t act as long as he’s under my protection.” Bilbo hummed and leaned against him. “Um, there’s something I wanted to ask.”

Bilbo nodded, looking at him. Thorin looked pained. “What is it?”

“There was…something I didn’t remember until now. During my illness, did I…did I…hurt you in any way?” he asked. “Sexually?”

“You mean back then?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I do recall you kissing me when I was trying to reason with you. But that was more a surprise than anything else. I slapped you and walked off. You looked hurt, but you didn’t come after me or hurt me. Not once, Thorin.”

“Except the time I almost threw you off a wall.”

Bilbo sighed. “You’re never letting that go are you?”

“I don’t know if I ever will be able to.”

“I understand that you feel shame for that, but look at me,” Bilbo cupped Thorin’s face in his hands, bringing him down to eyelevel. “I forgave you. I knew you weren’t yourself. And I love you. Even if I had difficulty trusting you after that, I loved you. I still love you. You are a good man, Thorin. You are still the person I loved. Silly, moody, and loving so deeply that it is impossible for anyone to think that you would willingly hurt others. I don’t hold the actions of a sick person against them because I know they are sick. You were sick, Thorin. That is all. And here I am with you regardless. I love you so much and I hope you’ll keep that in mind when I am with you. I see you with your girls and I think they are lucky to have you for a father. And I hope that Frodo can call you ‘Papa’ too one day.”

Thorin exhaled and closed his eyes, hiding his face in Bilbo’s shoulder. His arms wrapped around Bilbo’s waist and Bilbo ran his fingers through his hair, kissing his temple. “I love you, Thorin. I really do. I only hope one day you’ll believe me.”

“I don’t understand how you can love me after everything I’ve done to you.”

“See: that’s what I mean. You need to let it go. I love you and that never changed once. This time, though, I really do hope that you live long enough for us to be together for longer than a few months.” Thorin chuckled weakly.

“I think I can do that.”

Bilbo grinned. “Good. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“Well, dinner is ready in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

“Haven’t you learned? I’m always hungry.”

#

“I got stabbed here,” Frodo said pointing at his shoulder. “With a black sword.”

“Really?” Kelly whispered. “Because I got shot with a black arrow. Was it an Orc? It was an Orc for me.”

Frodo shook his head. “It was a tall man in black. I still have nightmares.”

“I know you do,” Kelly said, pulling him onto her lap. “But you’re stronger than you know,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine in the future. We know you aren’t crazy, Frodo. We know you are okay.”

“Not always.”

“Well, not everyone is ready to accept what happened to us in the past. Some don’t remember as quickly or accept it as readily as we did. That doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Right now, you’re little enough that people will just think your imagination is in overdrive. But for me, it’s a little different. I have to keep it to myself so that people don’t get scared on my behalf.”

“Why do they get scared?”

“Because they don’t understand.”

“Why do they not understand?”

“Because they don’t want to,” Kelly said. She could see this going round and around in circles if she wasn’t careful. At the same time she didn’t really know how else to explain it. Thankfully, Frodo decided to play with the toy cars instead of debate with her.

“There you are,” Phil said. “Dessert’s ready if you’re hungry still.”

“Cake?” Frodo asked.

“Yes, there’s cake.”

Frodo jumped to his feet and ran up the stairs as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. Kelly followed at a more leisurely pace. “He really likes cake.”

“I think one would be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn’t like cake.”

“Valid.”

Frodo had been caught around the waist by Bolt at the top of the stairs, and the younger was being hauled around on his shoulders. Phil rolled her eyes.

“Dweeb.”

“You love me,” Bolt said.

“I do, but you’re still a dweeb,” Phil said, kissing his cheek. “Now can we go have dessert or are you going to play with Frodo?”

“I want cake.”

“Apparently both,” Bolt said, setting him down. Frodo ran into the kitchen and almost toppled Bilbo over, hugging his leg and grinning.

“Hey, buddy,” Bilbo said, picking him up. “Ready for dessert?” Frodo nodded and Bilbo set him down to get him a small piece of the Welcome Home cake. Bilbo turned to the others and grinned. “Get in here before it’s all gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not getting inspired by this story. I'm trying and I would like to have some conclusion for Dwalin and Ori, but I don't think it's going in that direction. Thoughts?


	32. Chapter 32

After dessert, the children went back to the play room. Bilbo sat beside Thorin and leaned against him, closing his eyes. Thorin wrapped his arm around his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. Bilbo hummed and wiggled closer. “God, I’m tired.”

“Well, you don’t get much sleep with a little one who is constantly having nightmares.”

“Yeah,” Bilbo mumbled, yawning. Thorin adjusted his position to better wrap his arms around Bilbo in a secure embrace. He glared at Aiza when she passed by, grinning at them and mouthing how cute they looked. Perhaps they did, but he just wanted a moment to hold his lover.

Bilbo opened his eyes and turned his head to kiss him. “You have a resting grumpy face,” he said, smiling. “I love it.”

“You’re either drunk, tired, or both.”

“Tired. And God knows I hope I get my shit together. I got to take Frodo home and put him to bed soon.”

“And hopefully get a full night of sleep.”

“Oh, what a concept,” Bilbo said, yawning. “I wasn’t aware that was a possibility.”

Thorin kissed his cheek and nuzzled his neck. “Maybe you can stay the night.”

“Will your mother let me?”

“If you ask really, really nicely, she might.”

Bilbo hummed again and whispered in Thorin’s ear, “Not very ideal for fucking.”

“But very much so for cuddling.”

“True but what would you call what we’re doing now?”

“Cuddling.”

“Exactly,” Bilbo said, closing his eyes and shifting to a more comfortable position. “One day, I know we can cuddle all night.”

Thorin smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” Bilbo mumbled.

“You’re falling asleep.”

“Let me.”

“Okay.”

He heard the snapping of a camera and turned to his mother. She grinned and walked away. Thorin sighed and glared at anyone who so much as looked at them, as if daring them to challenge him. No one did, but there were far too many smiles directed at him. Some of which bordered on leering.

Thorin hid his face in Bilbo’s shoulder as he slept. He didn’t want to let him go ever again.

#

He had never felt this kind of fear before. Waking up in a cold sweat, shivering and breathing hard, feeling like he cannot move, Bolt forced himself out of bed and turned on the light. He was too old to go to his mother to talk to her about nightmares, but his dreams had been getting more violent and vivid.

He grabbed his phone and called Phil, but even hearing her voice sometimes didn’t really calm him down…

“ _Hello?_ ” He bit his lip and sat on his bed, knees touching his chin. “ _Bolt?_ ”

“I-I’m here,” he said.

“ _Did you have another nightmare?_ ”

“Yeah. I think they’re getting worse,” he said. “Phil, I’m scared.”

“ _I know. I’m here. I just wish I could be there with you to help you through this._ ”

Bolt wished that too. He swallowed, closing his eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, Phil.”

“ _I love you, too_ ,” she said. “ _Bolt, are you okay_?”

“Yeah. I think so. It’s a nightmare, right? So it’s not real. It just feels real. You know?”

“ _I guess_ ,” Phil said. “ _Maybe you should talk to your mom about it anyway. I know you don’t really want to, but she can do whatever I can’t and to be honest, Bolt, I don’t even know where to begin._ ”

“Right. I know, but I feel stupid going to her. I can go to you, though, but my mum…”

“ _Is actually very nurturing_ ,” Phil reminded him. “ _I don’t think she’ll belittle you for having nightmares_.”

“Probably not, but it’s embarrassing.”

“ _Who would know except for me? If I had the option when I was younger, I would have gone to my Dad when I had nightmares._ ”

The door opened and Bolt gasped when Aiza stepped in, a tired glare marring her features. “Busted.”

“ _Just tell her. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bolt._ ”

“Okay. Bye Phil.”

“ _Bye._ ” She hung up and he set his phone down.

“Phil, hmm?” Aiza asked. “It’s two in the morning. Why are you up? Can’t sleep?”

“Sort of…nightmares,” he admitted, feeling shame crawl up his spine. Aiza sat on the bed and took his phone, setting it on the desk.

“Tell me,” she said.

#

“Bolt’s remembering,” Aiza said in lieu to a greeting. Thorin arched a brow, still chewing his bagel as Aiza sipped her coffee. “And since Kelly already remembers, I figured I’d ask you how you dealt with it.”

“I didn’t,” Thorin said. “Not really. Kelly accepted it easily enough. Bilbo won’t be any help either. He remembered after Frodo, so…You _could_ talk to Gandalf.”

“I wish it was that simple. Bolt’s past life is…it’s not pleasant. You’ve seen what he used to look like.” Indeed he had. He was blind in one eye, His nose and lips had been cut off and his skull…the metal plates embedded in his flesh…

“I thought that was something he did to himself.”

Aiza shook his head. “The metal plates were part of his coming of age. I had the same thing for a long time to develop the scars I had on my own body. But the rest of it, his face…Thorin the reason I hated Dwarves so much was because they tortured him and murdered my wife. He’s having nightmares. What if he’s remembering what happened in that time?”

Thorin stared at her. “I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. We were both…driven by revenge at the time to even care about what our reasons were.” Aiza snorted. “For two enemies, we were very much alike.”

“Indeed. But it wasn’t me or my family who hurt him.”

“Actually it was,” she said. “You’re great-great-grandfather was the one who killed my wife. That and then later your grandfather tried to take our home. For your side, it was about reclaiming ancient land. For me, it was defending what we had and avenging Shelur.”

“That was her name? Shelur?”

Aiza nodded. “She was a great warrior and a fierce mother. She had skin like coal and eyes just as dark. Her hair was golden like the sun. She could rip out a man’s throat with her teeth.”

“Of course an Orc would find that attractive.”

“I know, right?” Aiza asked, grinning. “But I loved her. Losing her, seeing Bolg hurt like that…”

“I am so sorry that happened.”

“It wasn’t you who did that.”

“But it was my family.”

“You’re ancestors. Not you. I should not have placed that guilt on your shoulders. You’re a good man, Thorin. Both now, and then. But I still don’t know what I’m going to do about my son.”

“Teach him how you deal with it. You remember, but you don’t let it guide who you are now. He’ll need that. Especially if he and Phil are going to work after they remember. And if they don’t, well, they’re young. They’ve their whole lives ahead of them.”

“True. But it would be a rather interesting story. Sort of like… _Romeo and Juliet_ meets _Beauty and the Beast_. Not that my son is a beast, but I know how the other races saw us.”

“It kind of would be.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“He’s given me no reason not to accept him and Phil is happy with him. Perhaps even loves him. I will admit, it’s weird, but as far as first loves go, he’s not too bad.”

“She had a good father to teach her. That’s all.”

“And he had a good mother. Whatever happens now that he’s remembering his past life, he’ll be okay. He has a good support system. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Aiza sighed. “Thank you.” Thorin mumbled _you’re welcome_ around his coffee cup.

#

Dwade rarely felt nervous, but right now there was no other word to describe how he felt being on Darry's doorstep once again to prove his worth to the eldest Ri brother. True, Darry wasn’t Oliver’s and Norris’ brother anymore, but their uncle, but it didn’t really matter, did it?

He rapped his knuckles against the door and waited. It opened, showing him an older man with greying hair, hiding muscles under a knit cardigan and button down shirt.

“Dwade Fitzfundin, I presume.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dwade said, clearing his throat. He held the bottle of chardonnay out to him. “Am I right in assuming you’re Darian Rison?”

“You are,” he said, taking the bottle. “Come inside. We’ve a lot to talk about.”

Dwade exhaled. Test Number One: Passed. He followed Darry to the dining room and stared at the table. It smelled heavenly and he said as much to Darry rather than keep gawking at it. Darry hummed and said nothing, arching a brow.

“Oliver tells me that you’re a mechanic.”

“I am,” Dwade said, sitting down across from him. Oliver entered and sat beside him, taking his hand. “What exactly do you want to know about my job?”

This might be a rather long night…


	33. Chapter 33

AN:   
I can’t write this anymore. I really can’t. I’m sorry. 

Discontinued


End file.
